After the End: Remix Edition
by patchworkearth
Summary: Every Persona user must rise again on the eve of humanity's greatest threat. The definitive version of "After the End." Fully Remixed, with author's annotations and new content throughout! LATEST: Ch.8 - Everything goes absolutely wrong.
1. Prologue: Sin and Punishment

**Atlus owns all; join the Atlus Uni-Mind! **I however, own nothing. For more information on this "Remixed" version of "After the End," check the Author's Notes. As I always, I write these for my wife. Let's all cross our fingers that I can finish it this time... and before the new games hit, and wreck all of my continuity!**  
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* * *

><p><strong>- 1996 -<strong>

The tape at the edge of the police cordon was raised so that Kirijo the Elder could enter and approach Karukozaka High School. The press were trying to get past the wall of ambulances, where students were being looked over with completely useless tests and procedures. A stretcher was wheeled past him, and the child's contorted face lurched up towards him, mumbling the word "Makai" over and over again.

Kirijo the Elder smiled. Magnificent!

Closer to the building's entrance, an old friend was on his knees, sketching formulas on the asphalt with a bit of broken chalk. His face was the only other in the area that looked anything akin to pleased. He approached slowly, letting his cane tap to announce his arrival. After a moment, the scientist with the floppy mass of hair looked up.

"Nicholai." Kirijo held out his hands. "It has finally happened."

Dr. Nicholai stood. His hands were already dirty. They had been contemporaries in school, a lifetime ago, and their mutual passion for the sciences had kept them familiar even as their lifestyles – and their differences in class – had separated them. Nicholai was manic—his beard sparkled slightly in the sunlight, the remnants of drool. The scientist nodded again and again, clutching at his own arms.

"Official, ah, police and medical reports are writing this all off already. Reaction to an earthquake, perhaps."

Kirijo dismissed it with a curl of his lip. "You and I both know that this was no earthquake. The rumors are true. This school was gone for a moment, and returned the next."

Nicholai nodded. "It passed into an _Avidya_ space – outside of our perception. We can discount the rest – the demon world they claimed that they saw – they likely perceived _Maya_, illusions... just shadows."

"Perhaps." Kirijo the Elder was considering the tale that some of the students were spinning – that they had been rescued by a single heroic student and her friends, a Tamaki Uchida, who had somehow slipped out of the cordon without being properly investigated.

"This is the scientific discovery of the millennium!" Dr. Nicholai was rubbing at his face. "What the ability to distort space could mean for physics alone! Who knows what might be possible from here... dimensional travel, time travel..." He got in close to Kirijo. "The things that we saw as children... the reports we've read... they may all be true!"

"That much I'll grant you." The old man looked over to the school, which looked no different than it might have any other day. This incident would be forgotten within a week, no matter what had occurred.

"Kirijo... how can you be so calm?" Nicholai was all but bouncing in place. "Just think of our respective research! With the financial backing of your company, we could both..."

Kirijo the Elder shook his head, with a slight smile. "Nicholai, do you recall my granddaughter? She is five years old now." Without waiting for the other man to respond, he continued. "When she was born, I did a very impulsive thing... I bought an island. An artificial one, just off of the coast of Iwatodai city. I had decided that if my life's work was a failure, then I could at least leave a positive legacy for the child. But something peculiar happened this week. My granddaughter somehow knew that something had happened here. Vague impressions, of course, easily discounted, except..." Except. Except that something new had happened. Something that validated a life's research.

Kirijo tapped his cane once, and turned his back on Nicholai. "As of today, the Kirijo Group has declared its independence from Nanjo Konzern. We need no longer be anyone's subsidiary or partner. Perhaps one in perfection _can_ surpass two in harmony." He smiled. "Without our support, I expect that you'll find little backing from Nanjo, Nicholai. Perhaps the Saeki Electronics, Biological, and Energy Corporation can support your research on its own; perhaps it cannot. But you shall have to convince Takahisa Kandori _without_ my help."

As Kirijo the Elder walked away from the sputtering, fragile scientist, he felt anything but sympathetic. He was planning for the future. Determining how to convince his son to let little Mitsuru undergo testing. He had all of Nicholai's notes to date, and what Nicholai could do on his own, Kirijo could construct without him. What was more interesting was that the stories about the girl Uchida meant that his own theories were as a validated as Nicholai's. That there was a power dwelling within humans that could be utilized, something far greater than Nicholai's prototype DVA devices.

A power that he would call _Persona_.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Prologue: Sin and Punishment**

* * *

><p><strong>-1583 (Sengoku Era)-<strong>

"_NO!_"

But the call was too late. The length of the sword plunged through his lover's heart, right up to the hilt.

Tatsunoshin Suou did not falter, did not lower his own blade; but still the tears cut tracks down his cheeks as he watched his beloved Maihime Amano shudder down the hilt of his enemy's spear, a final clacking sound echoing from her throat. He did naught but incline his head. In the shadows, his manservant Junnosuke Kuroda receded; he knew what must be done. Sumaru Castle would burn to the ground.

They had failed – the Housoushi magician had abandoned them in their moment of need. The stalemate between the four clans had faltered in the worst way. And as the samurai Tatsunoshin Suou prepared to hold off his mad lord for as long as he was able, prepared to die in the same room as his lover in the hope of ending the evil of Kiyotada Sumaru... he uttered a curse upon the name Kuzunoha, for abandoning them to this fate.

As the first yellow curls of flame began to lick at the edges of the room, they looked for all the world to Tatsunoshin like a golden butterfly.

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

"I feel like an asshole."

"You are an asshole." Miki smiled. "Go on, go on." She waved him forward. "It's adorable!"

Prosecutor Kaoru Saga rolled his eyes and placed one step in front of the other as he slowly traced a path around the foul Taiwanese hotel room. "Why aren't _you_ doing this?"

Miki Asai, the beautiful woman who was laughing and watching Saga from her seat on the bed, just clapped her hands. "Hey! Hey! I'm not the one who needs the luck tomorrow! Start over! It's not going to work unless you _mean_ it when you do it!

The brilliant and handsome prosecutor grumbled to himself and went back to the room's first corner and began his lap again. "Persona, Persona, please come here." And at the next corner: "Persona, Persona, please come to me."

It was a children's game. Like looking into a mirror and summoning Bloody Mary. Childhood was where all the best blessings and worst curses were made up. Kaoru winced each time he had to say the silly phrase, but one look at how delighted his partner and secretary was at his performance and he remembered why he was putting up with it.

The two of them were in Taiwan to follow a lead, a lead on the biggest corruption scandal in recent Japanese memory. His meeting the following day would, in theory, place the final nail in the coffin of the defense minister Tatsuzou Sudou. He wasn't sure if Miki was aware, _truly_ aware, of the danger that the two of them were facing. If this kept her spirits up...

"Persona, Persona-"

The room seemed to explode inward as gunfire erupted through the windows.

* * *

><p><strong>-1999-<strong>

The woman sat upright in a hospital bed, attempting vainly to look dignified in her paper gown. Watching her was a security guard, who shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

After the last lab tech, something-something Komatsubara, had left the room – and after the woman had been given a few moments to compose herself fully, the security guard, whose name was Kurosawa, cleared his throat.

She looked over to him, and offered a weak smile. "Clean bill of health, apparently. Spending time within the tower appears to have no long-term adverse effects. The sickness is just a temporary reaction to the geometries of the place. The mind interprets it as..."

Kurosawa slowly shook his head. "That's not what I was going to ask."

The woman looked down. "Eiichiro... that is, Dr. Takeba... he saved my life. I cannot abandon him here."

He dared approach her. "You have to. This place... Dr. Kimijima and a few of the others, they are good people. Even the son, he may be a good man. But this place is evil. We both know this." She looked away from him. "What about your other dream? The one where you run a quiet antique store, yes?"

He did not add "We could run it together." And he could never hate her for choosing Takeba first, even if he did not return her love, was in fact happy with his own family. Takeba, too, was a good man. It was this place, the Kirijo Ergonomics Research Laboratory, that was ruining everything.

Kurosawa had a dream of a quiet life, himself. He had been a soldier; when his tour had ended, General Sugawara (a man himself descended from a great general) had recommended him for this detail. The Nanjo Group had developed military weapons in the past, and this R&D group that had split away from Nanjo had supposedly been working on new applications for the technology. But what Kirijo had was far and away beyond the initial Nanjo tech – the General's X-1 project was a shambling exoskeleton, but the androids developed by Kirijo Ergo looked downright human. He was done with this – done with the General, done with Kirijo. He wanted out; he could be a police officer in some quiet district somewhere... he just wanted her to come with him.

She looked like she was going to speak, but she was interrupted by the sound of a distant explosion.

"What was that?" He looked at her. He was always looking at her. She replaced her glasses.

"The beginning of the end."

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

Kaoru Saga was dead.

The man who had replaced him, however, lay writhing on a stained mat in a burnt-out building. It was not much of a safehouse, but it would serve until he had the wherewithal to be on the move again. For the moment, in his pain, he could only focus on one word: "Baofu." Revenge.

The stinging wouldn't leave his eyes. The stinging wouldn't leave his heart.

He rolled over, into the mess of garbage left behind in the building's remains. Some part of him realized that this was bad, that he was vulnerable now to the Tien Tao Len, the Taiwanese mafia that had killed Miki and had nearly murdered him (_had_ murdered him) as well. He needed to get back to Japan, to places that he knew were safe. But the pain was so great.

He knew it was standing over him; watching him. He refused to look at it.

His fingers found a discarded bottle cap. Kaoru Saga had been a practitioner of Qi Gong. When he had the ability to concentrate, he could feel the flow of his own Chi, and the Chi of others. He tried to focus on that sense now, as best as he was able. Shift his energy into the tiny shape of the cap in his fingers, make it an extension of himself. Route the pain into something tactile.

It was difficult, but his Chi was split – some part of him was hovering above his body. He knew it was within the thing that stood over him. The thing that had shielded him from the brunt of the attack. The thing that had let Miki die.

When he'd first woken, after the attack, the manager of the ratbag hotel had claimed there was an "accident." That a car had slammed into the side of the hotel. The story was so stupid, he'd almost believed it for a second.

Baofu. He _would_ have his vengeance. He jerked his arm, and the cap shot like a bullet, cracking the ashen wall of the room in twain. When he kept his eyes closed, the pain wasn't so bad. He forced himself to open them.

He looked right at it, at the thing. He knew its name was Odysseus. He knew that he was it, and that it was he.

This was a Persona.

He hated it.

* * *

><p><strong>-1931 (Taisho 20)-<strong>

The fourteenth Raidou Kuzunoha stood and considered.

He was standing at the edge of Ushigome-gaeri Bridge. Or rather, standing at the edge of that bridge on the Other Side, the Dark side, the land of Demons and shadows. The demons did not frighten him – he was a Devil Summoner. But his next move, it did frighten him a little. He was to perform the ritual of Soul-Sending.

He held in his hands the Amatsu Kanagi, an artifact powered by strong emotions – the bonds formed with others, social links that give people the strength to go on in the face of annihilation. The bonds that he had formed with Narumi, with Tae and with Satake, even mad old Dr. Tsukumo. The slender artifact pulsed in his grip.

What would it mean, to change history? Whose place was it to divert the flow of fate? Was he right, or was Kaya – that is, was the thing inside Kaya?

He could hear Gouto's voice within his heart, but he missed the presence of the cat by his side. Gouto's sacrifice, so that he could bring an end to this story.

There was nothing to be done. Time was a river, like fate; he would let it carry him where it would. He began to chant the words.

And the Akarana Corridor opened to him.

* * *

><p><strong>-1997-<strong>

Takahisa "Guido" Kandori ran his fingers along the side of the machine. "Turn it on." Dr. Nicholai's finger hovered over the button. Hesitated. "Turn. It. _On_." The scientist pressed the brightly-colored button, and the inner drums of the Dimension Variable Accelerator System began to spin. A light, something like a static spark, filled the pressure-sealed tube, and it made Kandori's reflection in the glass seemed to glow.

Kandori turned away from the main core of the device and approached the transferral chamber. The large black machine that looked somewhat like a seed pod – or perhaps a butterfly's cocoon – was where an opening into the _Avidya _would be created, inside which matter could be altered to Kandori's whim. The board of directors were short-sighted; they expected to follow in the path of Hermes Trismegistus, spin gold from base metals. It was an easier story to sell them on – the scientists involved in the device's creation instead expected a time machine. Kandori, however, was _not_ so short-sighted. If it could alter matter, then it could alter _him_; he could gain power beyond reckoning.

There was a voice that whispered to him, in the late hours. A voice that told him that this device could make him a God.

The mostly-opaque panels of the transferral chamber began to lighten, ever so slightly. The reaction was occurring inside. Kandori stepped closer without fear. He never feared anything, any longer – the voice would soothe him; it felt sometimes like the voice was sliding right across the surface of his very soul, something cold and damp like a tendril.

He placed his hands on the machine and felt its vibrations. Felt its resonance slowly fall into sync with his own.

And then, from deep within, he heard what sounded awfully like a young girl crying.

* * *

><p><strong>-20XX (Post 2040, Timeline A, After The End)-<strong>

"If all had gone as planned, history after Taisho 20 would have taken a different path..."

The thing inside of Kaya made the girl's motions somewhat jerky as she raised her sword – as if she were fighting to regain control – but the fourteenth Raidou Kuzunoha did not doubt that his opponent was still deadly.

"But, because of you, no one will ever see the new future I dreamt of... Are you satisfied, judging right and wrong with you own eyes, blinded from the truth!" The thing – no, call it what it is, the spirit of Raidou Kuzunoha the XLth – stared him down amidst the crawling chaos of the end of all time.

As the man once called Jouhei - the fourteenth heir to the title of Raidou - readied his own sword, he thought about what the time tourist had said in the Akarana Corridor. That the being he'd known as "Rasputin" was himself a traveler from the future, much as this latter-day Raidou was. That he had been charged with "righting" the timestream – that the Taisho period was only supposed to last fifteen years, not twenty or more.

Everyone involved in this case was concerned with preserving their own survival. Even the demon that had taken control of General Munakata was working to act against the darkness in man's heart in its own cruel way. Who could be the arbiter of all races – of all times?

Raidou did not believe it was he – but he knew that it could not be the man who had stolen the life of an innocent young girl. The sins of adults should never be answered by children. A holder of the title Raidou Kuzunoha could, at least, do that much.

Jouhei reached for the tubes beneath his cape, and prepared for battle.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

The boy in the headphones stared at the boy in stripes, and then looked down at the document on the counter.

"...Please sign your name there. It's a contract. Don't worry. All it says is that you'll accept full responsibility for your actions. You know... the usual stuff."

Without even understanding why, Minato Arisato lifted the pen. Everything was like a dream. The slight pinching of the headphones on his ears was the only sign that he still existed. As he signed his name to the contract, the introverted young man wondered vaguely how it was that his life was such a goddamned mess, and wondered what actions he could ever perform that would require such a formal declaration.

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

Ideo Hazama knelt in the center of the pentagram, and closed his eyes. The ritual was almost complete. All he had to do was chant the words, and a demon would be at his command. It was all so... _simple_.

They'd beaten him, taunted him. Miss Kayama... she'd rejected him. They had no understanding of what he could be. He was _special_, dammit. Nobody understood, not even Reiko. Not even his _sister_! Well, if that's the way that they wanted it, fine. He knew what to do now.

He'd gone to Alaya Shrine to pray. At least that's what he'd told himself, but really he had been mustering up the courage to kill himself – it was all that someone like him deserved, he'd known deep down. But then that man had been there, the blond one in the nice suit, and they'd gotten to talking. And the blond man had told him about that rumor...

Everything was ready. He had to stop hesitating. He'd be remembered for this forever.

He began to chant the words.

* * *

><p><strong>-2012-<strong>

_...I believe in you and I can do anything_  
><em>We can change the world<em>  
><em>It's best to leave your wake and spread wings<em>  
><em>Too long this time for<em>  
><em>Together we go...<em>

Souji Seta looked at all of his friends, watching him, looking at him with those longing eyes. And he didn't know what to say.

It had always been like this for him. His parents had so rarely been home; he'd learned to cook his own meals. And to be honest, he'd always dreaded their return, because half the time it meant they'd be moving again, to some new place, with new people. But this was different. What they'd done... what they'd shared...

He forced himself to put it aside. These were bonds that could never be broken. Whatever happened from this point on, they'd conquered the shadows that approached each of them in the dark. The future held bright promise, and everything would be okay from that point on.

He mustered up the strength to offer his friends – his family – a single nod, and boarded the train.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Kenta "Toro" Yokouchi walked out onto his balcony and sipped coffee.

It was a good day. The forty-one year old salesman idly rubbed his chunky frame and let the sun wash over him. That night, he was to receive his tenth consecutive national sales award.

But then, they were all good days now. His superiors kept threatening to promote him, but neither he nor (especially not) his wife would allow them to do it – his commissions were so high that an executive position would be a step _down_ in salary. He was too beloved by his company for it to become an argument, or an indiscretion. He had it all.

Well, yes, everything but Ayase. It was a little sad, how youthful crushes sometimes never left you. But he loved his wife, and she'd long forgiven how he'd embarrassed himself at the twenty-year reunion, back in '19.

And yes, he and his wife had no children. That he could not seem to conceive... that surely had to be the most ironic thing of all time. But they were happy with each other, and his wife never tired of trying.

Yes, he thought idly, life was not _perfect_, but perfection was unattainable – he was _happy_, and that was far greater.

Toro heard a dripping sound, and paused. Then he heard it again. He looked down at his coffee. Something dark was swirling around the center of his gourmet blend. When it dripped again, he realized the cause, and brought his fingers to his lips. His nose was bleeding. Bleeding _profusely_, in fact. How odd. He put his mug down and went to fetch a towel.

The darkness continued to swirl in the drink like a gathering storm.


	2. The Prince and The Policeman

**-XXXX (Time is nothing in the Velvet Room)-**

Margaret wakes.

Thoughts, memories, and yes, even _feelings_ come back to her slowly, as though they are being re-installed one by one. She does not have words for where she sleeps; she only knows that it is outside of the Velvet Room, but also not in the world beyond it. Sometimes, she suspects that she ceases to exist until she is called upon.

She finds her feet, and walks until she has re-entered the room where her master sits, waiting. The room has changed again. She had known that "today" (to the extent that such a word had meaning here) was when it would do so. A new edition of the Compendium was to begin. Though she was surprised to be called upon so soon after last time.

The Velvet Room was in the form of a private train cabin, with the usual opulent touches. She instinctively glances out the window, to see that there was nothing beyond the windows but void-no fog, no speeding lights, just emptiness. This was not entirely unusual, but still somewhat unsettling. But then she gives her full attention to her master, who is giving her a look that, for once, she does not understand.

"Welcome," says Igor, "to the Velvet Room."

For the first time in some time, since before even meeting The Boy, Margaret is speechless. Igor offers a solicitous wave to the chair across from him.

"Do not be alarmed," he says, "This is a place between consciousness, and the other. To appear here, means that you have agreed to enter into a contract."

"But... Master." She had never before understood fear, the way that her younger sister had. Even with The Boy, his presence had only given her greater confidence. Now, however, she feels cold-but there was no temperature to the Velvet Room!-and she knows her eyes are wide and pleading. "I have not... And..." She clutches at her arms. "I... am a _resident_ here."

"Which makes you a truly remarkable guest indeed." Igor smiles at her, the way he only smiles at his guests, and she looks longingly at the book lying on the empty seat beside him.

"Are you... to have no attendant? Perhaps my brother..." Her brother the fool, the weakling, yes, but surely better than nothing... But then she sees on the table between them: the telephone is back. She looks down and wonders if she is a being capable of tears.

"You are about to embark upon a journey." Igor holds out a hand to her, and yet... it is as if he ignores every word she speaks. Has she offended him somehow? She glances again at the phone. Would the others be returning, then, as well? That horrid painter, perhaps? She was fond of Nanishi's piano, it was true, but... "Your journey may be long, or it may be short, but you must recall your agreement: to accept fully the consequences of all that results from your choices."

"I... I understand." She bows her head, in part so that she no longer has to look at his face.

There was a long pause. Finally, Igor speaks again, and his voice is soft, quiet, and just a little afraid.

"Perhaps you should best start by finding your sister."

When she looks up, Igor is gone. Igor, who always abided by the rules, who never spoke out of turn and dare risk his service come to an end, and who always made sure that his charges did the same, even when their missions hurt so awfully and severely...

With nobody else in the Velvet Room, Margaret allows herself to cry. She hadn't even cried for The Boy.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter One: The Prince and The Policeman**

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Officer Satonaka's partner had a second firearm.

This was very strange in Japan, where guns were hard to come by, but not completely inexplicable; part of what concerned her was that he seemed dedicated to hiding the weapon from sight-and, she strongly suspected, the eyes of her superiors. She'd seen it exactly twice. Early on, he'd slammed a desk drawer quickly but not quickly enough for her to recognize the white shape that was clearly a holster; and much later, after things had changed, and just before he'd nearly taken her fingers off when slamming the glove compartment closed.

It was a lingering doubt for her, a cold fear in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn't the only one.

* * *

><p>The fluorescent lights glinted off of the Chief's red sunglasses as he led Officer Satonaka to meet her partner.<p>

"Sanada." The fellow cop didn't look up from his desk. "Sanada! You've been assigned a-" The Chief was _not_ fazed by the man's deathglare. "No attitude, Sanada. You've got a partner again. Deal with it, or I deal with you." Chief Suou offered Officer Satonaka a disarming smile – guess he wasn't _that_ big of a hardass – and leaned in closer to the Sanada. "I don't know how things were in Ayanagi City..."

"Okay, okay!" He grabbed the folder from Suou's outstretched hand.

Her first day on the force after moving to the city, her first day on her own without Dojima-san looking out for her, and Chief Suou had assigned her to partner up with a man who clearly would rather be working alone. She was so excited! Ever since Dojima-san had offered to guide her entry into the police force, she'd been alternating cop flicks with the martial arts films that had been her bread and butter since childhood, and the idea of such a clichéd partnership just tickled her pink. Until a little later that day, when she realized that what the idea actually entailed was her very first partner being kind of a raging asshole.

Sanada-san was good, there was no question, and he sure was professional. He was also incredibly affected – the way he carried his jacket over his shoulder looked a lot more forced than the way Dojima-san had – something about Dojima-san's rumpled, long-lived-in look. Officer Sanada was too pretty to get away with gestures like that. And he was always, always wearing gloves. His character was so constructed... he reminded Officer Satonaka a little bit of Naoto, early Naoto, before she'd become more comfortable with herself.

* * *

><p>"It is not... out of the realm of possibility, no." Naoto Shirogane's voice was guarded. Chie knew that she was weighing over the facts that she'd given her, teasing out one theory at a time and discarding them. She hadn't wanted to ask Dojima-san, not if there was a chance that her partner would get in trouble over nothing, and so there was only one other person she could call. "It is possible to acquire one legally, the laws are actually less strict than they once were. My grandfather has four, actually, which is certainly a high number. But it is very unusual. To be just an afficionado, it is very, supremely, unlikely."<p>

"Right..." She cradled the phone against her shoulder, while gazing at her own deep, dark, secret: beneath her polished uniform shoes, her high school sneakers, even the metal greaves she'd worn inside the television world, even with her boyish haircut and trimmed-down fingernails... she'd always had perfectly painted toenails. She used to wonder, back then, if maybe Naoto had a similar hidden sign of the gender she'd been born with-really, was Naoto going to wear boxers, or men's briefs?-but she'd never had the courage to ask her.

"It's not reason enough to suspect him of wrongdoing, I agree, but it is suspicious, and you were right to take notice. As always, I am genuinely impressed with the growth you've displayed since choosing this as your career path." Chie was glad that Naoto couldn't see her blush over the phone. "Now, I could make separate inquiries on my own, if you'd prefer, to keep your working relationship in good order. What is the officer's na-stop it."

Chie's eyebrows raised. "Stop what?"

"I am on the phone." Naoto's voice had a very familiar strain behind it, one that, outside of her small circle of friends, nobody would likely notice. "I said I am... would you quit it? There is a perfectly appropriate time and place for-"

"Hi, Chie-senpai!" There was a deep, brusque voice from somewhere a bit farther from the phone.

"I am talking! Go finish her platypus, and leave me to-stop that!"

Chie found herself smiling, despite herself. "Hi, Kanji!"

"He cannot speak at the moment..." Naoto sounded like she was struggling. "There is a hat jammed into his mouth rather forcefully."

"How is the shop?"

"Well enough." Naoto sighed. "Konishi-san and... this one... have been working on a neighborhood association, to help shoulder the struggles of the shopping district as a whole. Rise's grandmother has been very supportive." And turned away from the phone: "Did you remember to thank her?" Muffled groaning.

"I can see that you're very busy." And it had taken three weeks for Naoto to return her voice mail-which meant that she'd only just returned from a case. "Tell everyone I said 'hi,' okay?"

"Of course..." There was a long pause, the kind of awkwardness that Naoto had largely seemed to leave behind, at least in the company of people that she already trusted. "No, never mind, it is not my place to say."

"What?"

"Urgh." Her discomfort could only be regarding one thing, and Chie almost hung up on her to spare them both. "Hanamura has been calling after you. Frequently. And he has been quite insistent that I deliver... messages."

She'd rather get dragged down by Izanami's curses again. "Consider your... responsibility filled." The each gave their clouded good-byes, and Chie threw her phone down on the floor and crushed it with one powerful kick.

* * *

><p>Over time, the "perfect" shell of Officer Sanada cracks open. There are some things, apparently, that really set him off.<p>

The first case is a run-of-the-mill domestic, and as ugly as that can be, even she had dealt with them before, in Inaba. A small town, a beautiful town, does not make a perfect town, even without the intervention of... other. So she tries to calm the small child down, figures Sanada will get a statement. But the offender, apparently a foster father, doesn't even open his mouth before Sanada has thrown a punch that busts the man's face open like a summer watermelon.

It should be enough, but her partner keeps his job. Well, she rationalizes, who can blame him wanting to hurt someone who hurt children? She thought about December, hospital rooms, and how close they all came. No, she can't blame him, even if he'd nearly killed the guy. Not that she doesn't file her proper report. And he doesn't seem to blame her in the slightest for it, even after Chief Suou tears him apart in his office.

The next case, though, is worse, and he doesn't hurt anyone at all. They're called to support fire teams as they suppress a really raging one, a whole apartment building had gone up in what seemed like seconds, and she's barely out of the car to work crowd control when Sanada's got his hat and jacket off and running for the building. She hasn't even her extended her arm, let alone called out to him, before his fist punches in a boarded up window and he's inside.

A firefighter tries to drag him out, but he's too strong to hold, his arms seem to move on their own, shoving people aside so hard and so fast, like he was a member of Featherman. In the end, the only thing that seems to stop him, is when Officer Satonaka has finally caught up and all but flies into the air, spinning out into a perfect roundhouse kick that drives him into the ground, and into unconsciousness.

He never once seems to blame her for that one, either.

* * *

><p>Even with a new phone, a new phone number only given to a few select people (Souji, of course, and also Naoto, Dojima-san... she's still trying to figure out if she dares call Yukiko), Chie still opens her phone one day to find two dozen text messages from Kou Ichijo.<p>

This time she drop-kicks the phone so hard it seems to fly into the sun. She turns up the collar of her faded green jacket and stalks off, trying to ignore the stares from the other people on the crowded city street.

* * *

><p><strong>-2012-<strong>

Okina City. A middle school student looks around to make sure he isn't being watched, and takes a set of bolt cutters from his jacket. After a deep breath, he pops the lock off of a single pay-locker and drops it into his pocket.

Ken Amada takes a second glance at the crowds as he hides his cutters. His face is hidden in the depths of his orange sweatshirt, and his fingers tremble, just a little, as he opens the locker. He has any number of outs if he gets caught, but he knows that if he is, there will be no way to hide his actions, and his intentions, from the one woman he wants to avoid: the woman who is, in fact, paying for his scholarship, and arranged his internship with a major newspaper.

Inside the locker, as suspected, is a single file folder. The locker's owner likely has similar such lockers and other hiding places all over the country, and perhaps overseas. She is a consummate professional. Unfortunately, she never expected to be tailed by someone _shorter_ than she was.

...When the folder was stashed inside his sweatshirt and the locker closed, Ken took a new lock of the same model out of his pocket and snapped it on. That would buy him time, at least.

He slipped away into the crowds. He had to get back to Inaba as quickly as possible; his school's baseball team was going up against Inaba's, and Shu Nakajima was a surprising terror at bat. And then, back to the paper, where Miss Amano would no doubt be wielding a red pen.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"Your hometown is Inaba, right?" She looks up from her beef and broccoli (too much broccoli, not enough beef), but Sanada-san isn't looking at her. "You were there for the Hanged Man Killings."

Officer Satonaka slammed her chopsticks back inside the white box, and knew that she was trapped in the car. She couldn't abandon him during a stake-out, no matter how much she wanted to. "Yes, I was." What's it to you, she wanted to ask. So sick of tourists and reporters and every hyped-up power freak she'd had to sit next to at the academy wanting a piece of the story to claim as their own. "I was in high school, then."

The guy was only three years her senior, even if his Superman persona (Don't say Persona) seemed to reach past his arm-strength all the way to acing the academy in record time. He had five year's experience, and if he never said more than six words to her in a day, it had still been helpful. She thought of Naoto, suffering in Inaba back then with a police department who didn't take her seriously. But even then, there were some things that even he couldn't...

"I met Detective Dojima-san once." Sanada had kept his eyes trained on the warehouse, as she was supposed to have done. "A fugitive case. He seemed pretty sharp."

Her shoulders eased back down. "He's the greatest."

* * *

><p>Some of the other female officers, even the receptionist, they all looked at Officer Satonaka with distrust, envy, even outright hate.<p>

It took a while before she figured it out. All of them, every one, looked at Sanada-san like God's gift. And damn it, she wasn't blind. It had to be the hair. Sanada-san's face was more angular, but if Souji cut his just a little shorter, they could almost pass for...

She shivered.

Then one day, as if she didn't need the complications:

"Satonaka?" She was down at the firing range, when a disturbingly beautiful plainclothes detective approached; silently, at first, but at a respectful distance. When she had removed her headphones and goggles and the firing pattern was slowly working its way down the track to where she stood, he stepped a bit closer and offered her an awkward wave.

"Do I know you?" She placed the pistol on the counter and crossed her arms.

"Uh, not exactly." He shrugged, smiled. "My name is Tatsuya. Ah, Detective Suou." The Chief's little brother. Oh, geez. "I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee?"

Was there an escape route somewhere? Could she _traesto_ out of the station? Perhaps use the television in the lobby? "I'm sorry, er, Detective... I'm really pretty, ah..."

"Oh!" Tatsuya blushed. "I didn't... sorry." He backed away.

She let her head thump against the dividing panel.

* * *

><p>"Please don't hang up!"<p>

Yosuke's voice went silent as Chie snapped the phone shut, tossed it up, and spun around to kick it apart the way she had her Persona card.

The constant replacing of phones was getting expensive.

* * *

><p>"Yoooooooosuke!" He clamped his hands over his headphones. Maybe if he pretended, he'd go away? "<em>Yooooooooooooosuke<em>!" No, of course not. When in his life had he ever been so lucky?

Teddie, human form Teddie, was racing back and forth across their shared bedroom, stuffing things into his suitcase and then taking other things out. Wait, what was with those clothes? Teddie only owned one outfit (how did it never get dirty? Best not think), which meant all of those were...

"Teddie, those are my clothes."

"Yosuke!" Teddie dashed over and shook him. "Yosuke! I can't find my copy of _Magical Witch Detective_! What am I gonna do?"

"You're not gonna need it!" Yosuke Hanamura clawed at his own face. "You're only going over there for a week, man! Just pack some food and, I dunno..."

Teddie shrunk. Better to leave Yosuke alone. He'd been fighting with Chie again. He looked at his suitcase—there was a coloring book, his 'Miss' Yasoinaba Award, his claw weapon (just in case), a toothbrush, and one of Yosuke's magazines stolen from the hiding spot behind the desk (he'd be on the other side before Yosuke found out), and they'd already prepared a cooler full of Topsicles and other foods that he could cook on a campfire. He was basically ready.

And when the sun went down, Yosuke did end up helping to carry Teddie's luggage the long way to Junes Department Store, and he'd given Teddie a bag of candy to boot. He'd used his assistant manager's key to let them in and disabled the alarms, and as they approached the electronics department, it was Yosuke who first nudged Teddie, muttering something about "staying safe."

"You're gonna miss me, aren't you, Yosuke?"

"Yeah, I'm really going to miss picking blue fur out of my shower drain for a week." But there was something sad in his eyes, and Teddie knew that Yosuke didn't see the others as much as he used to.

They dropped the baggage through the television into the other world, and Teddie grabbed Yosuke in a hug before the other could protest. But with nobody else in the darkened store, Yosuke reciprocated the hug before finally giving Teddie's shoulder a shove.

"All right, go on. You'll be fine... but, come on out if you need anything. And don't forget what time you're expected back!" Time was strange in the television world, but Teddie always seemed to know what time it was in the real world, and the trip was planned for a single week only, a chance for Teddie to get some alone time in his own world, and to make his irregular patrol to make sure the world was in no danger of being used as it once had before.

Teddie waved to his roommate as he slipped inside the television, and Yosuke had a moment alone in the dark, where he was free to wonder why every once and a while, being with the strange little bear in the sometime human body was almost as comforting as the time he'd spent in the company of his partner-in-crime and best friend Souji Seta, whom he missed far more than he'd care to admit.

With nothing to do and nobody to call, Yosuke sighed and grabbed a broom to sweep the Junes floors. He had a decision to make, soon, about the future.

* * *

><p>One time, Officer Satonaka entered the gym to find him already shadowboxing, and almost turned around and left. But no, there was no point in acting like she was afraid of him (she was afraid of him), and besides, she had to know. After seeing his arms, his fists, in action, she had to know how she'd fare.<p>

She dumped her towel and her water off to one side, and approached with her hands on her hips. "You want a partner?"

"You already know I-" He closed his eyes and winced, and the I'm-an-idiot look on his face was actually kind of adorable. "You meant a sparring partner."

She let it slide. "I'll bet I could take you."

The challenge brought one of the only genuine smiles she'd ever seen him have. "Think so, huh?"

He shifted into a basic martial arts stance, turning sideways to make a more slender target (did he ever eat at all?) but left his fists closed, one arm forward, one back. She turned to the opposite side, and stretched one leg up to cross his arm in salute. And then they started.

* * *

><p>"So how are you doing?" Souji Seta's calm voice always settled her down. Sometimes, it even made her wonder; what if he'd been... but that was stupid for any number of reasons, not the least of which was she'd no longer have one of the only friends that she trusted.<p>

"Oh, you know the cop shop." Chie thumbed at the duct tape wrapped around her phone. "I don't want to sound like your uncle." She could hear him chuckle. "How's Rise?"

"Touring. Again. But I'm keeping busy." She knew what that meant-he was wandering the city, talking to strangers, taking odd jobs, reading children's books, and eating paper and bits of porcelain instead of just going to the grocery store. Souji was the kindest, most well-adjusted person she knew, but a childhood with jet-setting parents had still left its mark. "So, listen..."

"Don't. Don't even." She closed her eyes. She knew this would happen if she called. "Don't try to fix this."

"..." Telling Souji Seta to not try to fix something was like telling Naoto to become a fashion model. "I just think..."

Crunch. Time to go phone-shopping again.

* * *

><p>The room was silent except for the series of thumps and smacks, arm against leg, fist to shin or heel, so quickly that she suspected that a witness would think they were engaged in a mutual seizure, rather than a fight.<p>

He would fake one way, then spin around with a haymaker, but she'd already be up with a high kick. She would leap and attack from high, and his arms were already crossed to block a dropping stomp.

* * *

><p>There was a cop bar down the street, where Chief Suou – where Katsuya - would go sometimes at the end of his shift. Most of the officers there answered to him, and so they'd give him polite nods or raised glasses. The man who sat in the far, dark corner that Katsuya always came to see, though, he always snorted like Katsuya was a private joke that only he understood.<p>

Officer Kurosawa had a pair of shots lined up for them already, as he always did. Katsuya slumped into the booth and downed it without looking.

"Hard day at the office?" Kurosawa always sneered when he asked the question. They had worked the same beat for a while, years earlier, and he knew better than anyone that to Katsuya, getting bumped over to a desk was essentially a punishment.

"Don't start. It's _your_ protégé that I'm always dealing with, you know."

Kurosawa chuckled, waved the bartender to bring over two more. "I thought you'd settled that."

"I put him in check, that's all. Kid's like a wolf on a tether."

"You only say that because he reminds you of _you_." Kurosawa studied his empty shotglass. "You both like to bite off more than blah, blah, blah..."

"Right." As if the older officer hadn't been dealing the kid weapons under the table for a year. "I forgot how you always keep your nose clean."

Kurosawa shrugged. "Seems like it all worked out. How's Tatsuya? Heard he's making waves."

Katsuya rolled his eyes. "My brother's running out of places in his house to hide all the commendations. Kid's going to get himself killed one of these days."

"I suppose..." He accepted the glasses handed over by the bartender, "...That it would probably make things easier for you, hmm?"

Katsuya removed his dark glasses and glared at his friend. "That isn't remotely funny."

"I didn't say it was."

* * *

><p><em>...We're all trapped in a maze of relationships <em>

_Life goes on with or without you _

_I swim in the sea of the unconscious _

_I search for your heart, pursuing my true self... _

Chie jogged down by the river every morning before her shift. It didn't have the view or the calm of the Samegawa basin, but there weren't too many people out at that hour, and she could work up a good sweat.

That morning, there'd been a letter in the mail. She knew that it was from Yukiko without looking at it.

It wasn't fair, that facing down and accepting the worst parts of herself in the television hadn't really fixed anything. It also wasn't fair that each of them expected her to choose... anything. Why she was expected to stay, when the others weren't.

She never heard Suzuku Gongen anymore. Without that voice, she was never sure what to do. She'd thought that becoming a police officer at last would make that easier, but...

Chie crashed headlong into someone before she could finish her thought. "Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay!" The other woman smiled. She was blonde, and her face was... was she American? Though her Japanese was perfect.

"Lisa!" Someone called from up the street. The blonde woman offered her one last smile.

"Oops, that's me. Don't worry about it! Thanks!" And she ran off.

The woman had been beautiful. Like an idol. Chie watched her go, before zipping her jacket up tight.

* * *

><p>The stereo in the gym blasted hip-hop as they pulled away from each other, then came back, then pulled away.<p>

_...If you wanna battle then I take it to the street _

_Where there's no rules _

_Take off the gloves ref, please step down _

_Gotta prove my skillz so get down..._

Tap. Tap. Tap. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He rolled out of the way, she somersaulted to her feet, he threw an uppercut and she dodged.

_...Every man's gotta fight the fear _

_I'm the first to admit it shear thoughts _

_Provoke the new era become a big terror _

_But my only rival is my shadow..._

They were both laughing. But they didn't stop.

* * *

><p>"Yo."<p>

"Hey, Kanji...?"

"Hey, Chie-senpai. Naoto's out. Not a case, though. Wanna call back?"

"No, I..." She bit her lip, and curled her toes away so that she couldn't see the paint. "I wanted to ask you..."

"...Yeah?" After she'd paused for too long.

"How did you know that you were..." She made faces in the mirror. "Never mind. Sorry. Tell her I said hi."

"Uh...?" She hung up before he could find his wits, but didn't have the energy to damage the phone this time.

* * *

><p>There was shouting from the Chief's office, and possibly thrown things, and everyone could guess who else was in there. Everyone kept glancing at Officer Satonaka, who shifted uncomfortably, and went to wait by the door for her partner to emerge. They made this part seem like so much fun in those movies.<p>

When he finally emerged, head bowed low, she wondered if facing a Shadow would be enough for a guy like him.

She fell into step behind him. "How about food?"

"Huh?" He looked up.

"Well, it always makes me feel better. Meat is the answer to this life."

"Answer to life, huh?" He smirked, just a little. "Maybe I'll do that."

There was a pause before she figured out what he was saying. "No, I meant... I'll buy you lunch. If you want."

"Me? Really?" He looked sucker-punched. "O-okay. Sure. I guess."

As Officer Satonaka followed him to the cruiser, she shook her head in amazement. She hadn't figured it out before-it was just like Naoto. Underneath all those levels in badass and mystery and bad attitude... her partner was a tremendous dork.

Which just made her think of Yosuke, and she was sulking by the time she climbed into the passenger's seat.

* * *

><p>Rise had swept in like a hurricane, in town for a concert, and had chosen Chie's couch, rather than a hotel room, without consulting with her.<p>

Chie couldn't be happier.

"I'm sorry Senpai couldn't come... you know how he can be. He muttered something about helping the old woman at our laundromat, and there was no budging." She sounded frustrated, but her face gave it away, how much she adored their former leader, with all of his digressions and private quests and bizarre friendships. Chie picked at the dinner that her friend had insisted upon making for her, afraid to test whether Souji's cooking lessons were helping, and looked up, blurting it out without thinking.

"I've always been so jealous of you."

"Huh?" Rise blinked, and made movements with her mouth.

"You..." Chie fumbled with her napkin. "You always knew what you wanted." Who you wanted. "You were the only one of any of us who decided and just... went for it." Her and Kanji, maybe, but hadn't even he given Yukiko the occasional eye, before Naoto came along? Who didn't count, either, because Naoto had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the whole thing, regardless of how she chose to portray it now.

"Oh, Chie..." Rise shook her head. "You are so wrong." She giggled. "Like my knees weren't quaking every time we went out. I know what you all thought about me..." She worked at a pigtail with one hand. "I didn't think he liked me at all, at first. And then I thought, well, maybe he just liked Risette." Her eyes were just a little wet. "I'm just... lucky I was wrong, that's all."

"I know, but..." How could she explain it? She couldn't voice pain and strangeness of her life after Rise had left Inaba, like her beloved Senpai before her.

Rise made the most overly-dramatic sigh that Chie had ever heard, and pointed her chopsticks at her. "Your heart's just bigger than mine, that's all. You had room for more than one person." Before Chie could speak, Rise sat up straight and haughty. "They love you too much to let it ruin everything, you know. Just let them back in, you're giving Senpai and Naoto such big headaches."

* * *

><p>Officers Sanada and Satonaka finally stepped back from each other, both sweating through every inch of their clothes, and looked each other over appraisingly. They were too evenly, perfectly-matched. The fight could have gone on until they'd both passed out, without a single one giving an inch of ground.<p>

"Bet a girl's never given you a work-out like that, huh?" She then flushed beet red, realizing how that sounded.

Sanada-san, though, didn't notice. "Once. But... I'm not sure that counted." He was toweling off, and the work-out had left his muscles much more visible as he turned and stretched each in turn. "It wasn't really a fair fight. Not that it mattered at the time."

This interested her, but he clearly wasn't going to be any more forthcoming on the matter, and so turned away, reached for her water, so that he wouldn't be able to see her face any longer.

* * *

><p>"Well, based on what you've told me, this 'Asura Queen' and the entity we called Nyx have certain similarities." Mitsuru Kirijo reviewed the reports and looked up at her colleague, who knocked his knuckles against his motorcycle helmet.<p>

"There's too much we don't know." Kei Nanjou frowned. "The incidents in Paris, off the coast of the United Kingdom, that small African village, we don't have much data at all on those. I find it peculiar that so many have been focused in Japan."

"National arrogance aside, I tend to agree." Mitsuru placed the folder back down. "What concerns me more, is that we're due for another incident any time now."

Nanjou made a small sound in his throat, and closed his eyes. "Well... this time, we intend to be ready."

* * *

><p>One day, rather than tackle any of the mounting paperwork on her desk (never her strong suit), she drew a chart.<p>

Kou's arrow only pointed to her. Yosuke's and Yukiko's arrows, though, both pointed to her, and to Souji. Then she thought for a long moment and drew lines from Yosuke to Yukiko, and to Rise (whose only line was to Souji, of course), and then after a moment drew another one to Saki Konishi, before scribbling all over the name. Then she crossed out Yosuke's line to Rise. Then she drew one from herself to Souji, and immediately scribbled it out. Then just scribbled Yosuke's name out all together.

Let's just forget about Tatsuya Suou entirely.

Officer Sanada had appeared behind her without a sound. "Organized crime?"

"Anything but organized," she muttered, before tearing the paper into confetti.

* * *

><p>Chie sent a text message, or rather, a series of them, to Kou.<p>

_im sorry - u r a great guy - if u were what i wanted it would be easier - tho not so great to send dozens of txts like a stalker - pleez stop - really am sorry _

She slammed the phone against the corner of her kitchen table, but her arms didn't quite have the destructive power that her legs did.

* * *

><p>They were having an unusually quiet patrol when Officer Satonaka mustered up the courage to ask her partner a question.<p>

"What's your biggest failure?"

He squeezed the wheel so tightly that his gloves creaked.

"I have to choose just one?"

* * *

><p><em>...I'm not a princess <em>

_(a lot of anger in it) _

_not a cutie girlfriend oh no _

_don't you know?... _

They used to sing along to it together, when it was on the radio. So bitingly ironic. Neither of them would ever, ever tell another soul. Not when they'd both made such a fuss about not caring when "Risette" first came to town...

She pressed one button and the phone dialed. Every one of them had still kept her on speed-dial, even though she'd never called.

"Hello?"

Chie tried to find the words. "You must hate me."

"I... thought you hated me."

"How's Muku?" Since taking control of the inn, she'd only really changed a single rule - that it was okay for dogs, for one dog, to be inside. And that only for her, Chie's, benefit.

"Misses you."

"He... he knew I had to go." Why was this so hard?

"Well... maybe it's best." Yukiko's tone was very measured. "We've always fought over him. Maybe now he won't have to make a choice."

Sometimes Chie wished she could kick strongly and highly enough to shatter her own skull, and then this would all be solved.

"I... wanted to try to make things right."

"I know." Yukiko's voice wavered a bit. "It's just... It can't happen all at once, I think. I'm glad you called. But... I have a large group reservation coming in now, and..."

"Oh, okay." One of her toenails, the paint had chipped.

"Do... call me again, though."

"...Sure." When they'd both hung up, she pitched the phone into the trash bin.

* * *

><p>Officers Sanada and Satonaka had taken to training together. First once a week, then two, then three. They'd meet to run in the mornings, and they'd spot each other at the gym.<p>

Some of the other cops had noticed, and the rumors had already started. He didn't notice, like he didn't seem to notice anything that wasn't casework, but she did.

They still didn't talk much at all, either during training or during their shift. But that suited her fine.

She still wouldn't talk to Yosuke.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Katsuya would pick up the phone, and he would dial, and he'd get the newspaper office's receptionist on the line before he would hang up. He'd pad around his tiny apartment in his boxers, feeling sorry for himself, and then try again.<p>

He knew he shouldn't – he always managed to hang up before it was too late – but sometimes, he just wanted to hear her voice again.

It was, no doubt, for _her_ benefit that he'd taken Sanada under his wing, and then done the same for his rookie partner. That he'd renewed ties with his old drinking buddy. For Maya Amano, the only thing better than flowers would be information, and they were both sitting on opposite ends of the story of the century.

For all the good it was doing him, since calling Maya, trying to reach out to the person he loved, would be sentencing his brother to a living Hell. He looked at the photograph on his desk. It had been taken upon Tatsuya's graduation from the academy – he was holding his cap and beaming into the flash. He looked, in that photograph, like he had his whole life figured out.

It was for that smile that police chief Katsuya Suou had given up everything. He could hear her telling him to "Think positive." But that was easier said than done.

He'd take his heavy dosages of antihistamines, and let his cat jump into his lap, curl up and purr. He'd look at his phone, and make a different call, instead. His other great secret.

* * *

><p>Chie still wasn't sure why she'd agreed to come, but his stumbling, stuttering invitation had been hard to shut down. That might have been part of her problem with Kou, too, come to think, but this was...<p>

It was a small house, well-kept but haphazardly decorated. Sanada-san had introduced her to the owners casually, stressing that they were partners when the man in the ratty old ballcap kept ribbing him. The man's wife, though, kept staring at her in the strangest way, and so she'd snuck away from the backyard barbeque under pretense of using the bathroom, figuring she'd hide in the house for as long as she could get away with.

It was then that she saw the old dog, curled up quietly on a mat in one corner. She approached softly, and the Shiba Inu looked up lazily, fluttering his tail just once. "Well hey there, you." God, she did miss Muku. But this old boy was something else. He looked real healthy for his age, but it was clear the dog got tired out pretty quick. She scratched behind his ears, and got a kind lick in return. "You are one handsome devil."

"I see you found him." Sanada-san was there, behind her, again without noise. Scratch Superman, he was _Batman_-she'd spent a year sneaking up on monsters, how the Hell did he do that? "Careful, he doesn't like his belly rubbed. But anything else and you've got a friend for life."

"So I see." She ran her hand down the dog's beautiful gray fur. "How did you know these people again? The Yoris?"

"Ioris." He sniffed once. "Kind of a long story."

"Everything with you is a long story," she muttered, preferring to lavish more attention on the dog, who true to character had apparently fallen in love with her.

"Nngh." Sanada-san sounded like he'd been punched in the gut. "I, uh..." He turned and walked away.

She eased herself to the floor, and the dog placed his head in her lap.

* * *

><p>It all ended up happening more or less by accident. That is, Chie remembered making decisions, but it was such a blur that it wasn't until she'd woken up beside him that she realized it had all really been happening. And she might have freaked out about it more than she did, except that it was that moment that she remembered the second gun.<p>

* * *

><p>"Hey, Chie-chan, the burgers are ready, and he said you love some beef, so..." The husband in the ballcap stopped mid-sentence when he saw her expression, and rubbed at his face. "Aw, was he bein' himself, again? Sorry, I'll go, or, uh, I'll just go. Outside. Of my own house."<p>

"No, wait." She held up her hand before he could keep talking. Now this one really, really reminded her of Yosuke. Better that the adorable dog's head was in her lap, lest she kick her host between his legs on sheer account of resemblance. "Sorry. I've been very rude. I just..." She twitched. "Why did he invite me here? Does he have a crush on me or something? I don't get it."

"Oh, uh, wow." He looked like a truck was coming for him. "Huh. Um. He's just... you know, he's not so good with women. Any women. Anywhere." Some of his color returned, and he puffed up a bit. "Not like some of us, you know?"

"Junpei?" His wife's head emerged from the back door. Her long red hair almost swept the floor.

"Uh, yeah... coming..." He shrunk back down and eased backwards. "You know... go easy on him... mumble lonelymumble..." He was out the back door and shutting it without ever turning around.

* * *

><p>It was possible that she'd gotten it wrong, that he didn't have a possibly-illegal firearm. All she had to do was go look. But then he wouldn't trust her at all, and she'd... been through that already.<p>

* * *

><p>When Officer Satonaka was bringing the food back to the car, she heard her partner on his cell phone.<p>

"No, I haven't. No. Don't..." Sigh. "Don't be like that."

She placed the bag on the car's roof and waited for him to finish, ostensibly offering privacy but listening closely.

"I don't doubt that you can handle it. Just try to take it easy. Don't overdo it. That's... not funny. No, I don't expect everyone but myself to..." He pounded the steering wheel once, and she winced, hoping that he didn't just break the car. "We agreed not to involve him anymore. Because he's earned the right! They all have!"

A pause.

"It's different for you and me. Because it's always been different. No. No. Oh, for... I don't care what he says. Ken shouldn't be involved either. He shouldn't have been involved the first time, and he shouldn't have last time! No, that's not what I'm saying! Of course he was! Don't..." He sighed. "No more traffic accidents. You know why. It's disrespectful. Well, if you didn't want my opinion, you wouldn't call me. Yes. Yes!"

A longer pause.

"Are you going to be there, for... Because I promised him. It's not morbid, it's going to visit him. Because... because I wouldn't be comfortable with anyone else there. Yes. Fine. Okay." He sounded exhausted. "Right. Thanks. Yeah, you too."

She waited a moment before slipping into the car. After a moment, she decided it was best to play ignorant. "Were you on the phone? Who was that? Your, er..."

He looked at her, then started the car with a snort. "Not exactly."

"Oh." Meaning...? "Only, because... I mean, I didn't hear... much... but, you sounded close. Sister?"

"Not exactly." He pulled onto the road, and didn't say anything else.

* * *

><p>Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore, wrapped a sheet around herself, and quietly padded out of the room, careful not to wake him.<p>

* * *

><p>One day, Chie got a text message from Naoto:<p>

_BE CAREFUL. _

No explanation ever came, and she never answered when Chie tried to call her back.

* * *

><p><em>...He said <em>

_I'm the one who's got to leave _

_I said _

_Nobody's really got to leave 'cause _

_I don't hear enough explanation... _

They ate in silence, matching beef bowls. They were spending more time together, and she didn't know what it meant. Didn't really know what she wanted it to mean, either. Sometimes she thought it would be easier if she just kicked his face in. But then, they took turns saving each other's lives, and she knew that meant they'd never be rid of each other (Don't think about Yosuke).

"Seriously, though." He didn't turn to look at her. "Tell me about the Hanged Man Killings. What, erm... what was it like?"

She placed her palms on the table. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

He looked into his bowl, and that was a legitimately guilty face if ever she'd seen one.

"We were just kids." She rubbed at her eyes. There was a pair of glasses on her nightstand. She couldn't (don't say "Bear") to get rid of them. "Stupid kids. We didn't know anything." About anything.

He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't.

* * *

><p>It was in his desk drawer. It was lighter than the police regulation model. She placed it on the desktop and stared at it. There were four letters carved into the side, along the barrel. It didn't match any model that she was familiar with, from training or from movies.<p>

* * *

><p>When they were training, they moved as one, in perfect sync. His arms, her legs, like two halves of the same person.<p>

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Souji sounded a little stressed. Rise was gabbing in the background.<p>

Chie clutched at her face. "So help me, already!"

* * *

><p>"I understand your frustration, Katsuya, I do." Maki Sonomura rubbed at her eyes and looked at the clock. The chief of police had a tendency to call her at frightful hours. She sat up in bed, her husband stirring slightly before resuming his snoring. "But you can't keep calling like this. Maya's a smart woman. If you're making all of these calls, she's going to figure out who you are, and I can't imagine she'll be thrilled."<p>

He grumbled something on the other end of the line, and she eased her way out of the bedroom, cradling the phone under her ear as she grabbed her robe.

"I know, I know..." She sighed. "Maya had to make a very difficult choice—you both did—but it's for Tatsuya's benefit, and more than that, the repercussions of..." She winced as he replied with something cutting. "No, I'm not accusing you of not taking it seriously." She filled a glass with water from the kitchen sink. "Katsuya, hold on a moment, please."

She held the phone away from her head and slowly gulped the water. She woke up with dry throat often; sinus problems, too, tended to plague her. Compared to how it had been, there was no question which she'd prefer. But the persistent, lingering reminders of a life spent bed-ridden could hardly put her at ease, either. Especially when her sleep was so often interrupted by a patient whom she helped for free. Becoming a psychiatrist had, on the one hand, eased her mind considerably—every person that she helped made up just that little bit for what she'd nearly done—but on the other had left her at the beck and call of a half-dozen neurotic and crumbling Persona users.

"Okay," she said finally, placing the glass on the counter, "Katsuya, honestly, this needs to stop. You know this as well as I do. Now, I'm here to help you work through things, but I can't be just a voice that you call upon to commiserate with after you do what you want. That's not healthy for _either_ of us."

Her patient mumbled something.

Maki settled into a chair in the living room and let him mumble as much as he wanted to. She tried to blink away sleep. Yukino still called her often, as well, both distraught at losing touch with Maya, as Katsuya was, but also slowly coming to terms with no longer having access to her Persona, a devastating loss that Maki wasn't entirely sure how to help her with. Some of the others, too, from time to time, and for various reasons.

And those were only the non-paying clients. She had a full docket most days, now: just recently, a singer had been referred to her by that charity group, the Kirijo Foundation; apparently "Haru" had been trapped in the Tokyo Lockdown incident, and she was a handful on her own.

There was a rustling behind her, and she turned to see moonlight glinting off of a single earring. Her husband had woken up. She offered him a weak smile, and he waved sleepily before staggering off towards the bathroom.

Katsuya seemed to have worn himself out. She offered him some reassurance, and finally hung up the phone with a sigh. Sometimes, she thought, Katsuya's problem would be the one that she could not help. How did you tell someone to stay away from the one he loved, when she almost surely loved him back?

* * *

><p>Chie opened the door, and there was Yosuke, without a bag, without flowers, without even his damned headphones. Just a white shirt and slacks (like Souji, basically), and afraid to look at her.<p>

If she kicked it closed, she might be able to break his nose without the neighbors figuring out the cause.

She let him come in.

"Okay, so..." He was all but talking down his shirt. "I know 'sorry' doesn't cut it, but, uh, I figure I should say that first, anyway, and then..." He stopped moving. "Um... figure out... what to... oh crap." He clutched his head. "I knew I needed to write it down first!"

She watched him struggle, flopping around like a fish, and to her surprise... she thought it was cute. A little. And funny. And that she was just... tired of being angry. "Come here."

"Uh?" Yosuke's hands went to cup his groin instinctively.

"Yosuke, it's okay. Come here." He approached slowly, and she wrapped her arms around him. The hug lasted until he was comfortable, and returned it, and then it was nice. It was. She hadn't realized how much she needed her him back in her life. Just... not like before.

When the hug broke, finally, and they both smiled at each other, Chie decided that maybe everything really could be okay.

But she kicked his balls in hard anyway, just to be sure.

* * *

><p>She looked at the gravestone: <em>Aragaki Shinjiro, 1991-2009<em>

"He was..." Sanada-san raised his head a bit. "Friend? Brother?" He shook his head. "He's laughing at me right now, but I suppose he almost always is. Do you have someone like that?"

"Yes." A slight smile. "But she's... Yes."

He nodded. "Thanks for putting up with this."

"It's... not a problem. Really." Apparently whoever had been on the phone couldn't make it. Or wouldn't.

"I have one more to visit, actually." He looked down to one side of the small plot. "I'd rather do that one alone, if..."

"I'm not offended, if that's what you mean." She shrugged, and he nodded, walking away quickly. She looked back at the stone. "So, who is he?" She muttered to the stone, but there was no response. She rolled her eyes. "Tell me this, then... why do I think he wants something from me other than..." She clutched at her jacket. "Why am I even talking to you?"

* * *

><p>She was repainting her toenails while she tried to find the words for Yukiko.<p>

"I don't know, he's... sometimes I think he creeps me out. But sometimes..."

"I've never heard you talk like this before." She sounded... how did she sound? "Not even with... or..."

She flopped back on the bed. "Rise called me, before I called you. She said, 'I know it's someone, Chie. Is it a man or a woman?' And I hung up on her."

"I'm surprised the phone still worked to call me."

"It didn't. I bought two last time, the prepaid kind."

"Oh, Chie..." And then Yukiko was in the middle of a giggle-fit. It felt so nice to hear that she was almost able to put Rise's comments out of her mind.

* * *

><p>She picked the pistol up off of the desk, turned it over in her hands. It felt different. It was almost like a toy, though she knew instinctively that it wasn't.<p>

The longer she held it, though, the more the buzzing in her ears sounded familiar. It was almost as if...

There was something else in the still-open drawer, and she glanced down to see a file folder.

* * *

><p>"Yeah? How'd you like it, there?" Sanada-san was smiling, but he looked a little pained. It had been the Chief's idea to bring it up, but he didn't look entirely thrilled to be discussing it.<p>

"Oh, it was nice... I wasn't really much of a city person... I mean, I like being here, I chose to move, but..." She shrugged. "I hadn't really left town much, before. And it was a class trip, so we didn't really... well, we snuck out a bit. Went to that mall, um..."

"Paulownia. Yeah." This actually seemed to bother him a bit. "Was it karaoke, the arcade, or the club?"

She blushed a little, and wished that she hadn't. "The club. I mean, we weren't really into it. Most of us, anyway. But we met a friend there, so... no, it was nice."

"Where'd you stay?" He kept his eyes on the road. Sometimes she got the impression that he really didn't actually enjoy driving at all, even though he'd made such a big deal about being the one behind the wheel. She remembered him saying something on the phone about accidents.

"Oh, that's... I don't remember!" She bit the inside of her lip.

"Yeah, sorry, it was a while ago."

"What about you, then? Where did you go on your class trip?"

For the briefest instant, there was a look of pure horror in his eyes. "I, uh, I don't remember."

"Okay." She sighed and looked out the window. She thought about the other gun, the hidden one. "You know, I'm not trying to, to see your darkest secrets up on a screen. You could just be a little friendlier, if we're stuck being partners."

"Ugh... sorry." He looked ashamed. "I'm just not very good at..."

"Yeah, I got that." She banged her head against the window. "Kill me."

He jerked the wheel suddenly, turned to her entirely, and his eyes tightened. "Don't!"

"Huh?" She scooched away from him in her seat.

"Don't ever say that! 'Kill me.' It's not..." He looked back to the road, then back to her. "It's just not... it's not funny."

She gazed at him in confusion, but he was again focused on the road, his fists on the wheel so tight that his gloves could burst open.

* * *

><p>"It's not Kou, is it?"<p>

She sighed. "No."

Yosuke's voice on the phone wavered. "What's he like?"

She didn't know how to answer the question.

"I'm going to be moving. To America. For a while, anyway."

"Oh! Well... uh..."

"Good luck with him, Chie. I, uh..." Silence. "Well, just... good luck."

* * *

><p>There was a raid on drug peddlers working out of the back of a maid cafe. They were called in as back-up, and were loitering a bit as the perps were loaded away. She was... she was trying hard not to look, actually, and felt a little sick.<p>

He, however, looked bored. "Don't see anything you like?" She tried to joke.

"I've seen enough maid outfits to last me a lifetime." He glanced at her. "You actually seem a little..."

"No!" She shook her head. "Don't get the wrong idea!"

He looked confused. That might have been when she realized that his perception mattered to her, a great deal.

* * *

><p>He padded into the room in a pair of loose pajama pants. "Hey... I wondered where you..."<p>

Crying, she pointed the pistol between his eyes.

* * *

><p>"She's on a case." Kanji Tatsumi sounded glum over the phone. "She said it would be a long one."<p>

"Oh..." Chie stared at the ceiling. "Okay."

"Are you... uh..."

"No. But yeah. Thanks, Kanji." She hung up, and threw the phone out the window. After a long moment, she went outside, dusted it off, and dialed Kanji back.

"Hello?"

"It's me again... Sorry. Can I just... I need help."

"Oh." He sounded a little terrified. "Maybe you should call Senpai."

"No, I just... You knew Naoto was the one, yeah? Even though she was... and you thought..." She kicked at wall of her apartment building. "I... don't even know what I'm asking."

There was a long pause before Kanji answered. "Okay, uh..." There was another long pause, and then she heard him yelp. "Sorry, needle. Look. I didn't know what the Hell I was doing. And it turned out that she didn't, either. I don't think anyone knows what the Hell they're doing, actually." Sort of a sick laugh, and then: "Maybe Teddie does, but he's the only one with worse advice than me. If you're all stuck up in a knot so bad that you can't think about 'em without wantin' to puke, and you still can't stop, then you're probably where I was."

She ground her bare heel into the sidewalk. "That's... you know, you sell yourself short sometimes, Kanji?"

"Nah. I know my limits, and I let Naoto figure out the rest of it." She heard the sound of a sewing machine turning on in the background. "Look, it ain't really any of my business besides what you asked me, but..." She heard the machine humming through fabric. "They're gonna forgive you for it. All of 'em. Don't... Senpai taught me not to give a shit what anyone else thinks. Ya don't have to be anyone but you. And that's all I got."

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Thanks, Kanji. Just... thanks." She closed the phone and slipped it gently into her pocket.

* * *

><p>Akihiko put up his hands, but he didn't look very scared, either. "I'm not sure what to say, here."<p>

"You're a _bastard_." Chie threw the folder at him. "So you've been, what, keeping tabs on me for her?" Damn herself for crying.

"It's not what you..." He sighed. "Okay, that makes it sound worse."

The whispering. Just holding the gun, she could hear it. It was like being inside the television. Suzuka Gongen's soft voice, outside and in, telling her it would be okay. Telling her...

"Just, just listen for a minute, okay?" He took a step forward, very slowly. "I'll tell you everything. All of it. I just didn't think you'd believe me."

"You couldn't imagine _what_ I'm capable of believing." She used her other hand to wipe at her nose, her eyes, trying to keep the gun steady. "I believed in _you_. Who could imagine _that_?" She stomped her feet on the floor. "God, I'm such an idiot! I'm so screwed up! This isn't fair, I went through all this already, I should be fixed!" She pulled the gun back and placed the barrel against her own temple. "Why didn't it fix me?"

"It doesn't." He took another step forward, and he'd lowered his hands down. And damn him, he didn't look any more scared to see the gun aimed at her. "It doesn't fix you. We thought it did, but... it doesn't work like that." His voice was soft, calming. "Shinji was probably the only one who really got it. Shinji and..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it _does_! _It matters_!" She tapped the gun against her head. "_This_ matters! You don't care that I'm _doing_ this! Don't tell me it's not loaded, I'm not stupid!"

"You're not stupid." He was close enough to lay a hand over hers, easing the barrel away from her. "It's just not a gun."

He held her, and she didn't stop him.

* * *

><p>They'd been training in the police gym all day. He'd suggested that it would help burn off some of the sick that had built up through his long explanation, and she'd agreed. They hadn't talked since.<p>

Somewhere into the sixth hour, they were both breaking for water and deep breaths on either side of the gym when her cell phone rang. If it had been anyone other than Naoto, she would have ignored it.

"It appears I have miscalculated."

Hello, Naoto... she was used to it by now. She toweled off with one hand and held the phone in the other. "How so?"

"I was not wrong to advise caution, but upon further investigation, I believe you can trust him."

She cast a glance in his direction. He was sitting on a stack of mats, looking at her. She knew that look. And she did want to trust it. Wanted more than anything. "You were checking up on him for me?"

Naoto didn't speak for a moment. Chie offered Akihiko a weak smile and pointed to her phone, but he waved her off. Finally, "I am following up on a separate case. For my own benefit. There's... probably a great deal for all of us to talk about. Later. But I was concerned, yes. I still have many questions, but... I am confident that he is not a danger to you."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Thank you, Naoto. Please hug Kanji for me." She hung up to Naoto's sputtering, and approached the center of the gym, as Akihiko did the same. He raised his fists, and she tapped a leg in salute.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage within the TV Realm)-<strong>

Teddie looked out at the verdant environs that served as a healthy television world, his world, took a moment to wipe tears from his eyes and pull on his old bear-suit, still the form that felt most comfortable in that strange place.

He saw the flying creatures that looked like birds, the ones that had reappeared when they'd purged the world of its shadows, and so he chased them a while. It was nice to be more of a bear again, for a little while. But eventually, he grew tired of that, and he came back to where he'd dropped his things, and flopped down into a sitting position.

Things were so quiet and peaceful now, and that had been all he wanted; but it felt less and less like home, the more he stayed in the human world. And something had been bothering him lately, words that he'd heard someone say... at some point... he didn't remember, exactly, and that was part of the problem.

"The Star Arcana... It's a strong card, one that gives hope to those on the ground below. It shines in times of need. But, eventually, it is destined to fall to the earth and disappear... Even if I can feel the sadness of this inescapable destiny... You are capable of being whatever you wish... Be it the sun, the moon, or the stars. You truly are a mysterious soul. Are you really even a 'person,' I wonder... It makes me want to test out... a variety of things."

He was fairly certain the person who had said it was a nice person, but that was all he remembered. And it made him strangely uncomfortable. He'd wanted to talk about it with Yosuke, but the man who'd taken him in and cared for him had grown more distant the longer Sensei was away, and he wasn't sure that Yosuke would understand, anyway.

Teddie thought, for the first time in a long while, of the boy he'd once met in the fog, and wondered if he was okay.

And that was when he smelled someone else entering his world.


	3. The Eagle and The Butterfly

**-1990 (Timeline B-0)-**

Two members of Phoenix Ranger Featherman R were kneeling in the dirt before the shrine, facing each other. A duel was about to begin.

From beneath their masks, Tatsuya Suou and Jun Kurosu grinned at each other as they held their single-yen coins so that only the edges touched the ground.

It had been Maya who had taught them the game, and so far Eikichi and Lisa had already been thoroughly stomped by the pair; this was the finals, the game that would decide the _fate of the universe for all time_! It was kind of a silly game, but when Tatsuya and Jun had proven so adept at the coin spinning – and had chosen to take it so seriously, obviously _because_ it had been Maya's idea – it had become a real competition.

When Maya lowered her hand, the match was on. Tatsuya and Jun each spun their coin and backed away. The two spinning discs circled each other, edging ever closer. When they touched, the stronger one would stay in its orbit, and the other would fly off.

The kids all watched as the arcs curved ever inward, praying it would be just a few more moments before their parents came to bring them home.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Two: The Eagle and The Butterfly (A Remembrance Carried on the Wind)**

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

On the day that the Abyss of Time dissolved, Yukari Takeba had taken Aigis's hand, and they'd moved forward into the sunlight together.

Some years later, however, not long after dinner, Aigis vanished and never came back.

At first Yukari was irritated, but she wasn't worried. For all of her humanity, for all of her greater understanding and the lessons she'd learned, Aigis was still at least on some levels not a human, and there were times that she did inexplicable things. And so at first there was no panic, just an angry call to Junpei to chew him out for riling Aigis up with his ghost stories and urban legends.

As time went on, though, and Aigis did not return, Yukari began to panic, and so she called up Akihiko. They couldn't file a real police report, couldn't treat her as a real missing person, because there were too many issues and inconsistencies in her documentation—the Kirijo Group was good, but they couldn't create a past from whole cloth, not if she was being searched for—Hell, that first time, when they'd put her in high school, someone had confused two forms and Ms. Toriumi had read out loud to a laughing class that Aigis was a weapon. And so Akihiko and his suspicious partner kept one eye out, and Akihiko risked his job trawling files for any sign of her. But none came, and that plan petered out to nothing.

And so, after putting it off as long as she could, she called up Mitsuru.

She was Yukari's best friend, and yet just sitting across from each other, in that cafe by Port Island Station, she couldn't figure out what to say to her.

Mitsuru Kirijo crossed her legs, pushed some hair out of her face. With every year, she grew more beautiful. It made Yukari want to punch her in the face, sometimes. Instead, she stirred her coffee quietly, waited for Mitsuru to make the first move.

"I honestly don't know what happened." She didn't sound angry, which is what Yukari had been afraid of. Losing the last Kirijo-model anti-Shadow android weapon in existence? By all rights, Yukari should be marking a court date on her schedule right now. Instead, Mitsuru sounded as upset as the rest of them had, and it made Yukari a little sick to think.

"I figured you'd..." She flicked the stirrer with one finger. "...I don't know, send out vans and black helicopters, or something. Or that you'd have some secret recall code or something."

"Yukari..." Her voice was soft, understanding. "If Yamagishi can't find her, then nobody can."

It wasn't that she hadn't thought Mitsuru would care about Aigis, it was just... she was a person who took her job very seriously, had such a great sense of _responsibility_, and that had always shown in her interactions with Aigis. Even as the Abyss of Time had folded, and Mitsuru allowed Aigis to choose her own destiny, in the end she'd spoken as though Aigis had been cargo to deal with.

Mitsuru, the only one who would stand with her, when she'd tried to go back for him. The only one who was willing to damn herself without a second thought. And maybe that was the real thing that made Yukari flinch under her gaze. Not even _he_ had looked at her _that_ way.

"Well, you're probably very busy, so..." She stood.

"Takeba." That old formalism was so jarring that Yukari's legs tangled in the chair, and she nearly fell over. Her head turned back to Mitsuru, who had thankfully let her hair slip over her eye once again. "Let me..." Pause. "I could... set you up in a hotel. Just for a little while."

"Don't baby me, Mitsuru-_senpai_." Yukari grabbed her purse. "You're not my mother. I can be in my home alone." Even with the anniversary coming up. Even if it would be the first time without Aigis. Mitsuru raised her hand to stop her friend, but Yukari was already disappearing into the crowds.

And it was that night when the detective came around for the first time, that little spindly boy in the hat. Giving cause to wonder if Mitsuru was only trying to slide Yukari under the rug and out of the way. She slammed the door in the detective's face, and did so again and again in the days and weeks following; and she found it was getting easier and easier to ignore Mitsuru's phone calls and messages, too. It was so easy to hide from people; hell, she knew from experience, all you really needed was a pair of headphones.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

Minato Arisato had nothing left to scream with. Pain was the entire universe, blood his only voice. He couldn't open his mouth, felt his agony move outwards and on into time, felt the world crumble to dust, and still the pain grew. There were claws, and teeth, and things with no name. For a moment, he was convinced that his body itself had been separated from him.

But then the beast retreated again, and sensation began to return. And he knew that he had held, for one more day.

He wasn't sure if he was glad for it. It only meant that it would come for him again. And the pain was never so bad as the despair.

* * *

><p><em>"How about you sit with me?" The silver-haired man offered him a soft, weak smile. Minato slumped into the bench beside him, no strength left for anything else. "Ah! Then let this bench be our meeting place!" The other man seemed happy. <em>

_Happy, and healthy. Akinari was, for lack of a better word, pretty-his long hair was swept back, and his strong arms were lightly crossed, and Minato knew that this was the Akinari that could have been, that he was, buried beneath the cancer and whatever else he had suffered. _

_"Did I ever thank you, by the way?" Akinari smiled. "For the book, I mean... getting it published." _

_"I didn't do that." Minato let his body quiver, as it always did after the beast had come. "It was Ken. He became... no, will become, a journalist... always so concerned with how the truth never came out... he'd found your notebook in my room. I guess he thought I wrote it. Mitsuru probably helped him with it." How did he know that? _

_"They kept my name, though... perhaps they thought you were embarrassed by it." Akinari looked up, let the warm sun touch his whole face. "They would do anything for you." He turned to Minato, who was staring at his hands, as if expecting the stigmata to appear. "You gave such strength to everyone." _

_"I can't keep doing this..." Minato's tears were silent, feeble. "It hurts too much. I want to come down, now." _

_"You know that you can't do that." The other man shook his head slowly. "You made a deal, and... some things are, well, just inevitable, you know?" He grinned._

* * *

><p>Minato looked at the smiling Ryoji, who was nodding to him, so serenely comfortable. It would be better this way, for everyone. He had to make this choice. Nobody would suffer. He placed the empty shell of the pistol to his temple, felt his index finger trail along the barrel of the evoker until it reached the trigger and began to pull. "Perso-"<p>

No.

Nyx cast down savage spell after spell, as his friends fell one by one, until finally he was knocked back with such force that he knew, he knew, all he'd have to do would be to let his head loll to one side... just accept what Nyx was bringing to the world, let the warmth of finality envelop him forever, ignore the pulsing sound coming from the blue door just past his line of sight...

_NO!_

The Universe card pulsed within him, as Nyx forced death upon him again and again, as his friends called out for him... he could still stop, could still step back, could still go back... let it come...

_**NO, DAMMIT, NO!**_

* * *

><p><em>"Hey." <em>

_There was a rustle from the other man's heavy peacoat as he leaned against the wall. Minato didn't turn. _

_"How ya doin', tough guy? Hungry?" _

_The sound of an infant girl squirming in Shinjiro's arms, however, prompted him to look back. Shinjiro was balancing her in his arms, rubbing her back gently. _

_"Heard you were whining. Didn't sound like you, man. You were always the, what, the 'quiet one,' right?" _

_Minato couldn't stop looking at the little girl. "Who...?" _

_"Huh?" Shinjiro was deliberately playing dumb. "Oh. Right." He shifted the girl's weight in his arms, and she looked out at him with wide, bright eyes. "Her name is Miki." _

_"That's..." _

_Shinjiro glared. "I made a promise. Last I heard, the one damned thing our 'team' was any good at, was keeping promises." _

_The girl playfully slapped at Shinjiro's face, and pulled at his old knit cap._

* * *

><p>His flesh peeled, his bones splintered, his fluids boiled.<p>

Sometimes he could see the beast, but its shape was fluid. It was every regret he'd ever had, every sour thought and longing.

He would choke and suffocate, and though he couldn't shift his gaze, he knew that his gag was a yellow scarf.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

On a night of no particular note in the dorm, an off night, a no-Tartarus night, they'd been in the lounge like they always were. Junpei, drumming on his knees with a magazine; Fuuka, doing whatever it was that kept her busy on her laptop computer; Shinjiro, sprawled out across one couch, his beanie over his eyes, snoring loudly; and her, with her chin in one hand, half an eye on the Apathy Syndrome reports on the television.

"I'm going out." Minato was pulling on a jacket as he held the door open with one foot, Koromaru circling around his legs.

"Isn't it late? Where are you off to at this hour?" Yukari willed her head not to turn to regard him in full as he snapped a leash onto Koro-chan's collar.

"Uh." Minato scratched at his head. "You know. Errands." That was Minato. The busiest bee in Gekkoukan, some of the kids called him. For someone with his laidback walk, he seemed to have a fuller schedule than Mitsuru. Student Council, track team, photography club, part-time work at Chagall and Screen Shot, and lately he'd even been spied helping the exchange student in the Home Ec room. But it was his nights that confused her the most. The Dark Hour would be on them again in the time it took to go anywhere—what could be that important?

When the door made its familiar clacking sound, Junpei held his magazine in front of his face and said, oh-so-innocently, "Maybe he's got a date." Fuuka's typing sped up. Yukari stood, and casually drove the heel of her boot as hard into Junpei's foot as she could, turning to head to her room. As he yelped in pain, she thought she heard Shinjiro's snoring crackle into something like the rhythm of a deep laugh.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Chie used the picnic table's edge to pop the cap on her beer. "You know, I used to wonder what he did, when he wasn't with us, saving the world."

"Well, we lived with ours, so it was less of a mystery." Akihiko chuckled. He used a bottle opener on his keyring on his own bottle.

"Shhyeah. You didn't know he snuck off to karaoke all the time until I told you I caught him once." Junpei scratched under Koromaru's chin. The dog was curled up in his lap, as he sprawled out in the grass next to his wife, who was sketching quietly.

Aki rolled his eyes. "Is there anything that you _don't_ have to take credit for?"

Chie elbowed her boyfriend. "You totally interrupted me! I was saying, I _used_ to wonder. But, one day, I went over his house... his uncle's house, I mean, where he stayed when he was in town." She took a long pull from her bottle and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "So, his cousin, who is the most adorable thing, she let's me in, and I go up to see how he's doing. He's building _model robots_! Tons of them, all over his room!"

"Awww, that's not so bad." Junpei took off his hat and scratched at his hair. "I mean, I know Minato was big into manga, and he was always playing that computer game I gave him..."

"That doesn't count." Aki winced at the taste of his drink and eyed the label. "I thought he was talking to a girl on that thing."

"He was so full of shit. He said it was our homeroom teacher."

Chie laughed.

"Yeah, but, didn't one of the kids in your year romance the ethics teacher?" Akihiko put his bottle down and took Chie's. "She taught my year, I thought."

"Tomochika was even _more_ full of shit." Junpei dodged a smack from his wife. "Yeah, I know, sorry, _language_." He made exaggerating grimace-faces for Chie's benefit. "He was the one who wanted to be a stand-up comedian. He was a nice guy, but completely out of it. Iwasaki had it so bad for him." Junpei leaned back. "Ohh, man, Iwasaki. Captain of the volleyball team _and_ the tennis team. And the _legs_ on _ow ow ow_-" Chidori was twisting his ear.

Akihiko handed the bottle back to Chie so that she could drink, and looked up at the stars. "I don't know... I think it makes sense. It was a lot of pressure. He probably just wanted to do something really boring." He shrugged. "Minato told me once that he spent an entire evening just playing with that print club photo machine at the arcade."

Junpei rubbed at his ear and shifted his weight as Koromaru raised up his head to yawn. "I dunno. I heard he was always going to that club, too. But always by himself. He never wanted to come play wingman for me."

Akihiko held out his arm so that Chie could settle in against him comfortably. "Well, _that_ makes sense, at least. I know he was crazy enough to encourage you when we were on Yakushima, but if he went to the clubs with you? Takeba would have _murdered_ him."

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

He wasn't sure of time anymore. It was almost funny, how important the calendar had seemed to him. Finding time to go out with friends, to visit different places in the city, to study and sing Karaoke. He'd begun marking "days" by the shift between visits from the beast, and visits from the people he knew were dead. But he knew that they weren't real days, that he might have spent a thousand, thousand years within the Great Seal, and had already gone too mad to tell.

One day, though, was different from the others, in that he didn't think his visitor was truly dead.

She didn't speak; it didn't seem like she could. And her familiar blue uniform was missing-she wore something like a dressed-down school uniform, and somehow he knew it was partly to make him comfortable, and partly something else, something sadder. She had bags under her eyes, which he never could have imagined.

Her hands caressed his cheeks, and he saw that she was crying. But when her fingers slid back to the rear of his head, he realized that she was clipping on his old headphones.

He couldn't move, couldn't speak, not even a shifting of his eyes was possible to thank her... but she was already gone.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Souji Seta chose not to flinch when the crumpled ball of paper hit the back of his head. Yosuke wanted his attention, but there was something about this "Integrative Learning" teacher that spooked him; better to keep his head down, take the notes, and get the Hell out. If they could survive the day, they had free time that night and the following day to explore the big city, and after the conflict with Mitsuo Kubo's shadow, everyone could definitely use a break.

This teacher, though... they'd already had Mister Edogawa for a class once today, in which he'd deviated from his already bizarre lesson plan to give them a lecture on Japanese mythology. Apparently, however, one of the other teachers at Gekkoukan High had been unavailable-this apparently happened a great deal, some of the kids who'd volunteered to help on this class exchange were whispering in the halls about a "Ms. Toriumi"-and he'd been called in to sub.

"Well, since we'd gotten on to the subject of myth, and of the gods warring over the fate of mortals, in our previous session... let's go back to that. Eeeheehee." Edogawa rubbed the back of his neck. "While we're all familiar with our own legends, like the one of Izanami and Izanagi, other ancient cultures had some pretty fascinating stories as well. Greek mythology, for instance, is another favorite of mine." He looked upwards and mumbled something about "Thrice-Great Hermes."

"Is this guy for real?" muttered Yosuke behind him, and Souji slumped in his seat a bit.

"Now, are any of you familiar with the stories of Prometheus and Pandora?" There were a couple of scattered hands-Yukiko, naturally, was all over this one. "Now, one important fact is that before the writings of Aeschylus, these two stories were often part of the same tale, but ever since, they've been riven from each other permanently in the minds of scholars and worshippers. Which brings us back to the discussion of curses..."

Chie was trying to spin her pencil by its point on her desk. Souji wondered how Kanji and Rise were doing.

"Prometheus was a brother to Atlas, who held the world upon his shoulders. Now, Prometheus is known for stealing fire from the gods and bringing it to man. He did this, actually, because Zeus had taken fire away-Prometheus had tricked Zeus by changing the guidelines for what constituted appropriate sacrifice to the gods, which angered Zeus... in return for that, Zeus had sent Pandora to earth as the first woman-and so the story of Pandora's Jar serves as a parallel to the Christian concepts of Eve and Eden."

Souji's own pencil broke, and he sighed. Yukiko handed one back to him without looking, while he tried to amuse himself wondering if Kanji's family had any history with Tatsumi Port Island.

"The important part of the story, of course, is the same as in the modern tellings-while Prometheus is chained to a rock and tormented eternally for his attempts to save humanity, Pandora manages to shut the jar before hope escapes along with the evils of the world, making her mankind's savior, as well, despite what she had been intended for."

Yosuke kicked Souji's ankle. "When are we ever going to use this stuff?"

"Many myths consider Prometheus to have shaped man from clay - which would make him a sort of father to Pandora, as well, even though she was created by Zeus. Of course, that's only speaking metaphorically... Eeeheehee... They say Prometheus was chained in the Caucasus, which is of course a real place-it's from where we derive the term 'Caucasians,' and it includes places like Armenia... but it's also said that it's one of the places settled by survivors of the fall of the great Tower of Babel..."

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

Something from without awoke him, then, forced him to turn his burnt and hungering senses downward, in that way that he could without moving.

"...This is his life essence." He didn't know that voice. "As you can see, this is what happened. He himself became the Great Seal. But relinquishing one's life essence means death for a human... He must have already found it... His own answer... to life." Whose voice was that? It sounded a little bit like...

"The answer to life..." Aigis. It was Aigis! Just below him! His cheek could still feel the surprising warmth of her mechanical legs as he drifted into sleep.

And then... one voice after another. He could hear them below... Mitsuru and Akihiko, Junpei... Fuuka, Ken, and Koro-chan...

Yukari.

Oh, Yukari, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

He could hear the growl of the beast coming around again.

Run, guys. Run. Don't do this. Please.

"Why the hell is it after us!" Junpei crying out as the others recoil in horror from the beast.

"...It wants my sister! She has the same power as the one who created the seal..."

Oh, no. Please, no.

He heard Yukari. "I won't let myself run this time... He's watching us, and I won't let him down!"

He tried so hard to scream.

The music in his ears changed tracks.

* * *

><p><em>"Oho! Clever." Hidetoshi regarded his move, and placed down a white stone to counter. "I would never have thought you'd be this good at the game." <em>

_Minato looked at him with an agonized expression, and Hidetoshi's face softened, as he'd rarely seen. _

_"Yes, I know. 'It's not fair,' and all that. Drunk driving is an unconscionable sin, as you of all people are aware." He pursed his lips. "It was quick, for all that's worth, and the offending party is receiving quite the sentence. I hear that infernal club at Paulownia Mall has stopped serving drinks entirely now. Just as well, if you ask me." _

_Minato shook his head, unable to speak, and placed another black stone on the board. _

_"I should admit something. After all you'd done for me, it's only fair." He nodded to Minato's headphones. "You were always wearing those things at school. I hated it. I wanted to cite you for the infraction so many times, but... well... you know." _

_To one side, Akinari was watching the game unfold with a serene expression. To the other, Shinjiro was sullen, supporting little Miki in his lap. _

_Somewhere, he knew, they were fighting for him. He couldn't see it anymore, couldn't hear it. _

_Hidetoshi turned over a large block of stones. _

_"I am surprised at myself," he said, "As I find myself unable to hate the man for what he has done. Isn't that strange? I find myself thinking about my father. And about you, naturally." _

_Shinjiro was bouncing the girl on his knee. _

_"Not that many people came to my funeral, you know? I had regained a lot of respect, but friendship was slow in coming." He watched as Minato took back some of the board. "Fushimi-san came, which surprised me-your doing, I'm sure-and our student council president made a brief appearance. A few of the teachers. And my family." He placed a stone. "And yet, I feel at peace." Akinari placed one hand on the man's shoulder. "Do you understand?" _

_Minato took a long time to nod, but when he did, Hidetoshi offered a smile, a real one. Shinjiro snorted._

* * *

><p>"But really... it wasn't because you were 'the chosen one' or anything. It was because of the way you felt." Yukari's beautiful voice was cut short by a small chuckle, and then: "You really never do stop thinking about him. We all wanted to protect him, but out of all of us... you must've felt the strongest. If there wasn't a seal... the world would soon yearn for Nyx again... That's why he's here. For us. Even if we went back to before the last battle, the world wouldn't be saved unless he did the same thing." She laughed. "I can't believe I didn't see it before. If there was an easier way, he would've taken it."<p>

The pain was gone. The beast, rebuffed.

"It's still sad, but... If I think of him as protecting us, forever... it helps a lot."

In his mind, he was blowing her a soft, sad kiss. Live your life, and be true to it, Yukari. And maybe, I really can do this for you.

Aigis was watching him; and for a moment, it was almost as if she could see him, the real him, beneath the seal. And then she was smiling with their friends, and there was a familiar blue light as they left him forever.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

On a late night, a lifetime ago, Yukari Takeba thrust a short sword into Minato Arisato's hands, as the world shook itself apart.

They were almost to the back door when Mitsuru's voice reached them, and told them to try another way. And so it was back up the stairs again, and he never once asked what was going on, never broke down the way that she had so many times. There was a soft line in his neck that went hard, and that was it. By the time they'd reached the third floor landing, some part of her realized that they'd been holding hands. But then they reached the roof, and it was there that she failed him for the first time.

When Orpheus first appeared—and yes, she saw it, you didn't always see it so literally, but that time she certainly did—she'd thought it was beautiful. Even in that moment, hands clawing at the roof tar in panic, she'd found it elegant in a way that none of the others had been, not even Mitsuru's.

Later, she'd realize how much it looked like Aigis.

But of course it didn't stop there, because that other thing was buried inside of it, and it broke free, emerging from the lute player's mouth, and then was too big to be contained, shredding that beautiful image to horrid pieces. And everything was violence.

Later, he'd try to find the words to apologize to her, for _scaring_ her he'd say, and she wouldn't know how to explain that her thoughts upon seeing Thanatos had been _What have I done to you?_

He didn't wake again for a week. Those nights by his hospital bed had been a prophecy. And when he looked at her again, she babbled, about her family and every damned thing. While he smiled at her.

Later, she would feel his arms around her on the beach at Yakushima, and she would push him away.

The rumors began the first day of the year, when they'd walked in together; when word got out about her visiting the hospital, the gossip exploded. The pressure was too much for her. She didn't say, not out loud and not even to herself in a way that mattered, that what scared her was if he'd heard the rumors and thought that they were _funny_.

Later, she'd see him with that mousy girl from Student Council, and her chest would grow tight.

When Shinjiro died, she'd wanted to go to him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault. But he'd just snap that leash on Koro-chan and walk out into the night, and leave her alone with the others.

Later, Fuuka would hand her a disc that would shake her world back down to the ground, and she'd have no one to go to, nobody to share the joy and the tears with. And so she would pull him aside after class, to "apologize for Yakushima." Because damn the rumors.

And Aigis was always there. Hugging him on the beach. Appearing in his room. Watching over him when he was sick, during the storm. Walking with him during the festival. Hanging on his every word and thought.

Later, Ryoji would come. And he would start smiling again, and so she could hardly stay mad when she was _sure_ that they'd been in the hot springs that night. And that would be the last time she'd see him laugh without forcing it.

She took him into her bed, and it wasn't as sad or as scary as she'd feared, and she didn't feel like her mother, she was just happy. Deleriously happy. And he held her so close that night, like one of them would fall through the bed and be lost forever, and being held like that was all she'd ever wanted.

Later, it would be Christmas, and they'd walk through the mall and admire the decorations together, and she'd think: _Even if the world does end, right this minute, it doesn't seem so bad, because I was able to have this._ And when they sit on the bench, and she gives him her gift, he would turn to her, and say, "I want to fight."

She reached the rooftop of the school, the rooftop that had been _their_ place, and she found him sleeping in the lap of someone who wasn't her. And her anger burnt her insides to char and collapsed her knees, because she knew it was anger at herself, because... because she'd forgotten him, forgotten _him_, the only thing she would ever need to keep.

Later, she would hold his limp hand in her own, as she once had before, and she would make a promise.

And so, walking the corridors of the Abyss of Time, behind Aigis, the one who'd received his final gift, and had a brand-new sister to boot; walking behind the one who didn't understand what love _was_, but matched Orpheus so goddamned perfectly, some part of her knew that she, Yukari, didn't deserve those gifts, because she had forgotten him. And Aigis never had.

Later, there would be keys, and a choice. And she would be willing to tear the universe to ribbons if it meant saving him. Because that was what love was. And Aigis would stand strong against her rage, her violence, and her pleading; Aigis would seek instead to understand the man that Yukari never truly had. Because that was what love was.

She saw him one last time, and saw what he had done for her, for all of them; and in that moment, she felt cleansed. And with Aigis by her side, it felt like maybe they really could paper over some of the hole in things with a friendship forged in loss. Aigis became a friend, a sister, and sometimes, privately, to herself, the daughter that she and Minato could never have.

Later, Aigis would leave, without a word. And she was abandoned again.

And the others would try to reach out. Junpei inviting her to the house, where he and Chidori were building a life beyond everything that they'd been through. But Junpei had gotten her _back_, and Yukari hadn't gotten that. Fuuka would come over, sometimes, and try to coax her out of the house. But Fuuka didn't _need_ someone, she'd found her own form of happiness. Yukari wasn't that strong. People at work would try to set her up with someone, unknowing. But Yukari was not her mother, a woman she'd forgiven, reconnected with, but didn't want to emulate.

She had found her love, and now it was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

"How are you feeling today? Groovy? Not groovy?"

Naoto Shirogane ignored the idiot and walked up the stairs to Club Escapade's second floor, where reserved seats were set into the wall, and a railing offered the best view of the entire location. She found herself thinking of a book in her grandfather's study.

Naoto was a good detective, but she knew that she had nothing on her grandfather, who had been solving the unsolvable for so very long (he had always joked that he was a hundred years old, perhaps even a little too insistently). That was why when she found the document tucked into a dusty collection of Aeschylus, she knew that she could not have stumbled upon something that he hadn't intended for her to one day find. She may, however, have found it earlier than he predicted-if she dared be that arrogant. Ever since that day, the document's contents had clawed at her. It was a remit, part of what appeared to be a tangled legal case involving a young boy's government-sponsored care.

Her grandfather's notes were all over the margins, and it bore his signature and other signs of his heavy personal involvement, and there was a part of her that was strangely jealous of this phantom boy.

How strange, to be jealous of a boy she'd never met. And there was a dark, locked-away voice deep within her that murmured that it was yet one more reason that it would have been better if she'd been a boy, herself.

She'd come to inspect this club as part of a private investigation, one that had nothing to do with her current case-or perhaps it did, tangentially. One of her schoolmates, one of the youths who had disappeared and returned with alarming regularity since the "Hanged Man Killings" (as one occult-loving television reporter had coined them) had begun, was a former pop idol who had performed at this club on the night in question. Or was supposed to, before the power went out. Whispers, rumors, and circumstantial evidence suggested similar irregularities to her current case, but not enough for the Detective Prince to take seriously. Naoto had no taste for the supernatural, besides a fading nostalgic taste for the old tokusatsu shows.

No, there was a part of her that knew that this investigation was spurred as much as anything by the fact that the boy from her grandfather's document had transferred to school in this city, had attended the very site of their planned school trip, and during the same time frame as Rise Kujikawa's canceled performance.

And then vanished entirely.

She had a folder kept in a pay locker at Okina Station, and it was full of poorly-reported incidents, internet gossip and disreputable cultist website dogma, and a few clipped or printed news articles related to the public split of the Kirijo Group from the equally wealthy and distinguished Nanjo Group, both of which seemed to make old farmer's wives out of the populace, to judge from the overabundance of rumors.

The final page in the folder, beneath the remit from her grandfather's study, was a prized childhood memento; a newspaper record of a violent car pile-up on the famous Moonlight Bridge that connected the artificial Tatsumi Port Island to the mainland (another victim/suspect in the killings was "Kanji Tatsumi"-was that why he unsettled her so?). It was the accident that had claimed the lives of her parents, brilliant detectives in their own right, who were supposedly in the middle of a major case breakthrough when the accident cut their investigation, and Naoto's childhood, tragically short.

She willed the pieces to connect, but every time she had the beginnings of a solid shape to the thing, it sifted out through her fingers.

Seta and his crowd would no doubt find their way to this club with Kujikawa in their coterie; Naoto resolved to wait them out, and find out for sure what it was they knew. Souji Seta was a blandly attractive upperclassman, but there was something very dangerous in his eyes, and if she understood little else about the Hanged Man Killings, her intuition that they knew more than they let on surely had to be correct.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

"I have two siblings."

Elizabeth had returned in a slightly better state, though her uniform was still missing. She reclined as if relaxed, though Minato could tell that there was something heavy weighing down her shoulders.

"I am not sure if I ever mentioned them before..." She hugged her arms, such a human gesture. "My brother is young, naive perhaps. Which is to say, like myself. Theodore is kind, except by accident, which is all the crueler. We're too different now, because of you." She didn't sound angry at that, just tired. He had thought the days and nights of Elizabeth had been a dream, real dreams beyond the ones of Igor's summonings. Bottomless yen and bottomless questions about life. A night that passed like a fever, and waking to find no trace of her. Guilt around Yukari for a week or more.

But now she looks away, and there is real sadness. "My older sister hates me, now. She thinks I am mad, delinquent, and she has taken my role from me."

There was no way to comfort her, from his place in chains.

"Margaret was always the smartest. And my master's favorite, I think, though he was so kind to us." She dabbed her eyes a little. "But I made my choice, and I will honor my vow to you."

He felt warm and cold in turn.

"I will return. And I will keep returning."

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Ms. Ounishi's class was the last of the day's lectures. Yosuke looked like the walking dead, but Souji couldn't help but sit up a little, as the teacher was incredibly beautiful.

"Now, who here is familiar with the butterfly effect?" Chie, excited to be following along for once, shot her hand up so fast that she almost fell out of her seat. But Ms. Ounishi didn't bother calling on anyone, just continued to lecture. "As the story goes, the flap of a butterfly's wings can effect changes a world away. It's a metaphor to explain how chaos theory works, the idea that there is 'sensitive dependancy on initial conditions.' It's what makes very complex systems very difficult to predict. Take, for example, the weather. Nobody can predict the weather with a 100% accuracy rate. Or the behavior of husbands, that would be another good example."

A few girls tittered. Yosuke snorted. "I don't remember the last time a weatherman got it wrong, in Inaba."

Souji thought, for just a moment, that he saw something blue in his periphery, but then it was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

The pain, the recurring prowl of the beast, was gone. But the thing about the worst thing in the world is, you can't believe how bad other things can be until it's gone.

Silence, for one. Silence stretching on into infinity. Oppressive, oceanic silence.

Or loneliness. Conjuring his friends took strength that felt like a rapidly dwindling supply.

Or "What if" questions. Those might be worst of all.

And then...

For just a moment, Minato thought he saw a man directly before him. He was slender, dressed in white, and wearing a porcelain mask. Just as quickly, the man, who seemed to occupy the former space of the beast, was gone.

He was surely going insane.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Naoto was reviewing documents on her phone, published articles from members of the Kirijo team expounding on the Nanjo Group's work in theoretical physics and quantum mechanics. She didn't understand enough of it. She could never understand enough of everything, she knew, it was a physical impossibility, but it never stopped frustrating her when she found an area where her knowledge gave out.

It was only when she looked up from her phone that she saw the butterfly, a brilliant blue one even indoors in the cheap haze of the nightclub, flit past her and away into the lighting mounts in the ceiling. It was beautiful, and sad, and for some reason just a little scary.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

The fourth floor bathroom wasn't used often, like the one by the lounge, and so Minato and Fuuka had requisitioned it together as a darkroom. She remembered once when Shinjiro had first come back to the dorm, he'd slipped in and fallen back out, rubbing at his eyes and cursing, and had almost tripped back down the stairs. She placed her hand on the door and closed her eyes. She could hear him inside, the sloshing of solution over those often-hidden hands as he withdrew each picture, hung them up on a line. Everyone else was in the lobby. She turned off the lights and slipped in the door. "Yukari?" But his initial hesitation wasn't there when his hands moved her hips up and onto the rim of the large sink, thumbs beneath her short skirt. Downstairs, Junpei was daring Ken to go upstairs and check on them, until Mitsuru silenced him with a glare.

Less than a week past that, and her competitive streak had gotten her in trouble, a hastily-made bet while playing cards in her room left her walking into Tartarus in the maid's outfit from the canceled cultural festival. Holding her bow in front of her protectively, as Junpei laughed so hard he had to grab a red-faced Akihiko's shoulder to stay standing. He just held out his hands, self-satisfied and yet somehow still so innocent. She remembered walking with Mitsuru in Kyoto, seeing him in his robes through a window, laughing with Kaz from the track team, Kenji, and that strange boy Ryoji. Wanting to be the one he laughed for. And so she held her head up high, adjusted one stocking, and walked right into battle in costume.

But sometimes, Minato would wander into the corner of Tartarus's lobby, stare into the shadows for so long they'd think they'd lost him for good. And sometimes when he came back to himself, he'd be red-faced and unable to meet her eyes for reasons that she couldn't explain.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

His MP3 player had reached the end and cycled back to the beginning of the playlist. The first song was by a pop star that he'd always sheepishly enjoyed, one who'd come to their city to perform. He hadn't had quite the level of courage to go buy a ticket, not then, but when he'd passed by Club Escapade in hopes of working up the nerve, he could have sworn he'd seen Shinjiro there, trying to blend into the crowd.

_...Now I face out _

_I hold out _

_I reach out to the truth of my life _

_Seeking to seize on the whole moment to now break away _

_Oh god let me out _

_Can you let me out _

_Can you set me free from this dark inner world _

_Save me now _

_Last beat in the Soul... _

What had that other voice, the one that had sounded like Aigis... what had it meant? "The answer to life?" He had done what he thought he had to... but... everything still hurt. Even without the beast visiting him each "day," the hollow feelings caused by his questions and his loneliness just wouldn't cease.

The dark void in which he lay, in which the seal held strong, was changing. There was a constant haze over everything, almost as if a summer fog had rolled in.

* * *

><p><em>His next visitor was a bear. <em>

_At least, that was the closest equivalent. It looked a bit like a monkey, as well, and it was dressed up in a white and red clown suit. But not even the exaggerated squeaking of its steps could mask the sound of crying, of awful, grief-racked sobbing the likes of which Minato had not heard since the night Chidori had died. It's, his, paws were over his giant cartoon eyes, and it appeared that he was paying no attention to where he was going. _

_"Are you okay?" Minato was sitting on Akinari's bench, and he held out a hand to the strange creature. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" _

_"I-It's all my fault..." The bear wobbled in place. "Nana-chan died because I couldn't even protect her..." He gasped for air. His fur was all mottled from the damp of his own tears. "How could I ever promise to protect anyone? I... I don't even know what I am!" _

_"Come here, sit, it's okay." The bear sat on the bench. They were ostensibly at the shrine, but the fog was so heavy that Minato couldn't see far beyond his arm's reach. "What's your name?" _

_"T-Teddie." _

_For the first time since he raised his finger in the air towards Nyx, Minato smiled a little. _

_"Of course it is. Teddie, if you know that you're Teddie, then you know what you are, right?" _

_"I..." He rubbed at his nose. "That... that _sounds_ smart, but..." _

_In the midst, Minato suddenly caught a glimpse of Shinjiro, holding Miki's hand. They were both looking at Teddie with something close to... he turned away, unable to bear their faces. Shinjiro, he'd always had an angry side, a darker side, but to see that sweet little girl's rage towards this bear was too much to handle. _

_"Y-You sound a little like Sensei..." Teddie sniffed. "How could I go back to him now that Nana-chan is... is..." He started to cry again. Teddie looked, as strange as it was to think, just a little familiar. Minato put his hand on what was an approximation of the back of the bear's neck, and his fingers found the cold steel of a zipper. "D... Do you think..." Teddie turned to him, and with Minato's fingers in the hook of the zipper, it opened slightly. _

_The end of a yellow scarf flopped out. _

_Minato's silent scream as he tried to move, tried to do or feel anything from his place on the cross, felt like drowning in sea of insects. He couldn't even see, the fog was so heavy. A knot of tension within his core snapped violently, as he tried to exist, tried to be real for even a second..._

* * *

><p><strong>-1999-<strong>

It had been foggy that night, as well, on the Moonlight Bridge.

The Shiroganes had only intended a quick passing by of the Kirijo Group facility. Reconnaissance, nothing more. They weren't even going to get out of the car. That was why the two children were buckled in the back seat. It even assisted with their cover story. The parents would never have willingly endangered the children.

They had no way, not even with their prodigious skills, their intellect and intuition, of predicting the explosion, the emergence of the creatures, or the pitched firefight that erupted in their direction. There was a flash of black, and then one of white, and while the father tried to keep the car under control, it flipped on its side and collided head on with that of a beloved Gekkoukan teacher named Kitamura. Everything erupted in flame.

The two children were separated when they crawled free of the wreckage. The boy passed out atop a plaque noting the time capsule buried beneath. It was then that the figure in white, whose battle was at a standstill, laid hands upon him.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

_Minato's hand was over his mouth. Teddie, whose insides held not Ryoji Mochizuki but a blond-haired boy in a lover's tuxedo, wiped at his eyes. _

_"I remember, now." Teddie was biting his lip. He looked away, flipped the bear's head back over his own, and zipped it shut. "I know what I am." He sounded as if he was still crying. "Oh, Sensei... will you ever forgive me?" _

_"Teddie." Minato held out his hand. Shinjiro closed his eyes and shook his head. But who could blame him? Minato understood now what Teddie was. He tried to picture the reactions of his other friends, and shivered. "I..." _

_There was a purring sound from one side, and both he and Teddie turned as one to regard the vehicle that was approaching through the fog. It was an incredible limousine, of a dark blue that faded into black. Its engine was almost silent, and its length seemed at once normal and stretched back through infinity, as if it had driven through something besides space. There was a part of Minato's mind that could not resolve the vehicle's presence in this construct of what was supposed to be the shrine, by the playground, and yet he knew how little reality had purchase here. _

_The driver's window rolled down, and Minato saw a fair-haired man, with a blue cap. It was his eyes, however, that were a giveaway. Never having met him, Minato still knew him instantly. _

_"Teddie, that's your ride."_

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

The class was over, and Yukiko was glancing over Chie's notes from the day's series of lectures. "Chie... There's no 'U' in Atlas."

"Are you sure?"

Souji and Yosuke were chatting when the classroom door slid open and Mister Edogawa slipped into the classroom. He winked at Souji and went to speak to Ms. Ounishi.

Yosuke shook his head. "She is a fine-looking woman, I'll tell you, partner."

Souji squinted. "They're married."

"What?" Yosuke shook his head. "No way, bro. No. Way."

"No, they are. Look at their... I don't know, their posture."

Yosuke rolled his eyes. "How you read people, dude, I'll never know."

Souji was quiet for a long moment, then approached the pair of teachers. "Mister Edogawa?"

"Yes?" The man shifted his glasses and tilted his long, skinny neck.

"I'm sorry, but..." He wasn't sure why he was asking this question. "About your lectures today." He put one hand in a pocket, shifted his stance. "There's... I had a question." Ms. Ounishi was peering at his silver hair with curiosity. "Well, both of your stories ended with hope for, for people, I guess, humanity... but not so much for the gods, or the myths. Is there... hmm." He looked down, trying to figure out what it was that he cared to ask. Usually, it seemed like all he had to do was choose what to say, not make it up. But somehow he found he had an important question that he could not phrase.

"Eeeheehee..." Edogawa rubbed his neck. "Well, they say that the great hero Heracles was the one to free him."

"I don't... Souji shook his head. "I don't know much Greek..."

"Oh, Heracles is a popular one. A mortal who could take on the Gods. Strength, courage, and beloved, very beloved, by man and woman both. He enjoyed games and played with children, too. He's known for his many heroic feats, like tricking Atlas into re-shouldering the world, or wrestling Thanatos." Edogawa looked thoughtful. "He has his origin in shamanic rituals involving trips into and out of the underworld, which I suppose puts him on a plane with Izanagi, or Orpheus... everyone's interpretation is different. Aeschylus wrote that Prometheus knew of a way to take down Zeus, usually a particular coupling that would sire a child that could destroy Zeus. So there was a lot invested in keeping him chained, Eeeheehee..."

"So... but he does get free?"

"Well, it depends on the interpretation, as I said." Edogawa made scales of his hands and tilted them back and forth. "Some versions of the story have him trapped there eternally, in torment."

Souji felt oddly sick to his stomach, and wondered why he cared. "Thanks..."

"Oh, no problem at all." A passing cloud cast Mr. Edogawa's face in shadow.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

He realized suddenly that the man in the mask had returned. He was closer this time, no, suddenly he was right there in front of him, tilting his head slightly in question.

They regarded each other for what felt like an eternity in silence, and then the man in the mask pressed a single fingertip against Minato's forehead.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (?)-<strong>

Hamuko Arisato shouldered her bag as the thumping music from her headphones drowned out the sounds of the Port Island Station. Her first night in her new city... she only looked up when the darkness rose.

Hamuko Arisato blushed-but only a little!-at the kindness of her goofy classmate Junpei Iori, offering to be her first friend.

Hamuko took her first tentative steps into the cavernous depths of Tartarus, gently swinging her naginata in an arc before her and trying not to look scared.

_...Been a little while but I'm still battling _

_Moving fast while you's just prattling _

_No time for me _

_No tangling _

_Hit you in the spot with no angle and..._

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

He shivered.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (?)-<strong>

Hamuko joined the school health association, even if Mister Edogawa creeped her out just a little.

She tried to ignore Yukari's smile and glance in her direction every time Shinjiro's name came up. It wasn't what she thought, Hamuko just... wanted to know what his deal was, that's all. Really.

She looked at the floor guardian, tried to remain stoic, and pulled the trigger on her evoker.

She giggled at Junpei's ghost story.

She tried to get Akihiko, sad Akihiko to take her seriously, so that she could be there for him.

She rescued the cookies before Fuuka could take their innocent lives.

She snuck out for karaoke, or the arcade, at night, when the others were slumped in the lounge seats and dreading the approaching full moon, just for a chance to forget, even a moment, how much they needed her.

She jabbed her pencil into her forehead as she looked over her final exam.

The beautiful blue sky of Yakushima was so bright...

Aigis scared her a little sometimes, but there was something fragile there, a heartbroken look that tickled her memory. She truly belonged with their family of outcasts.

She lugged home another bag of drugs from Paulownia Mall, knowing that nobody would remember to thank her, worried that the druggist was viewing her with suspicion.

A Sunday night home in her room alone, watching Tanaka's awful show, feeling tired.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

What's happening?

I don't understand.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (?)-<strong>

Saori, in between sobs, tells her about the dishonest reporter.

Mutatsu offers her jaded advice.

Yukari wants to be her friend, but she worries that Yukari wants an ally more.

She studies.

He's always there now, hanging around by the back door, leaning against the wall.

Rio and Yuko, splashing around with her in the Amagi Hot Springs.

He offers to help Fuuka cook.

She's spending all her nights with him, it seems. That is, the nights not spent climbing.

Junpei occasionally looking at her with an envy and a resentment that would send her up to her room to hide.

Little Ken guzzling milk by the gallon.

Walks with Koromaru, the only one who didn't ask anything of her.

Bracing herself as he leans in to pierce her ears.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

The Samegawa rolled quietly on as Souji Seta and Rise Kujikawa spoke quietly. He tried not to look at that expression of hers, almost worshipful, tried to pry his feelings apart from the tangled mess of the last few months.

"Senpai, have you ever thought that you're pushing yourself too far, or that you were just acting?"

Souji made a vague gesture with his hand. "All the time." He knew that some of the others, Yukiko and Chie particularly, were concerned that his time with Rise was... what? Ego padding? Indulgence? The way Japan's favorite pop idol gazed at him, and with her looks to boot, who wouldn't suspect his intentions? He did sometimes, himself. And yet...

She giggled. "Really...? Then you might even be a better actor than me." She told him about coming to Inaba, about being a regular person again, about a bullied childhood. "After a while... I realized something. The person everyone likes, the one they say 'hi' to on the street? That's not the real me. Risette is the one everyone likes... the fictional character they sold to the public... It's the same with you, isn't it? You don't have to deny it... I won't be mad."

He'd been dreading this question, and the consuming inevitability of it. "...I don't know."

"W-Wow, I'm kinda surprised..." She tilted her head back, just a little. Her neck was so softly curved. "You project this image of strength, so I didn't expect you to say that..." She smiled just a little. "But I see... you're just a year older than me, huh? I never thought of that..." She smiled sheepishly.

"It's... it's not just that." Souji watched something float past in the river. It looked almost like a doll, but then a large fish just barely crested the water, and the doll vanished into the depths. Whatever it had been, it was lost to the Guardian of Inaba, now.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (?)-<strong>

She held his head in her lap. Clockwork was strewn across asphalt. His hand brushed her cheek.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Souji flexed his hand, as if he was crushing a Tarot card in its grip.

"Sometimes I feel like..." He shook his head. "You said something, after your shadow..." Rise winced. "Right, well... you said that there wasn't a 'real you.' That's... I'm afraid of that more than anything else in the world." She reached for him, and he just put up his hand. "No, let... let me finish. I..."

He could hear Igor's voice in his head. "You possess the Wild Card..." For such a creepy old bastard, he had a deceptively soothing voice; almost velvet, like his limousine's apholstery. Which was the "Room" named after? "Think of it like the number Zero..."

He glanced over at Rise. "Sometimes, I feel like... I don't have a real self, either. Like I change my personality with each person I talk to. Like I spend so much time making everyone else happy, trying to help everyone else, that there's nothing left for me. All I do when I go home is fold envelopes, read trashy literature, and go to sleep. I feel like I don't have a real life anymore, past this damned..." He waved his hand. "This murder mystery." He lolled his head. "I keep thinking about what you said to that detective. The boy in the hat. About it not being a game." He could feel Teddie's glasses in his shirt pocket. "If it's not a game, then what is it, you know?" He looked her in the eyes. "I think I'm going crazy. And I can't talk to the others about it. Yosuke, or Chie... even Kanji, they need me. Everyone needs me for something."

He looked back to the river. "When you look at me like you want me, it makes me think maybe there's something there to want. What would my shadow look like?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (?)-<strong>

The tragedies began to happen one after another, so quickly that she didn't have time to feel anything but empty.

Ikutski, with his horrible puns and placating smile, the monster.

And then Chidori, and Junpei's agonizing scream. She'd begged him to fight for her.

Akihiko grew stronger with time, only for Mitsuru to take his place, numb and insensate.

She found perhaps her only reprieves in Theodore, in his childlike wonder at the world.

And then Ryoji.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

The man in the mask released his touch, and Minato gasped inwardly as the void reclaimed him.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Rise took Souji's hands. "When I got back to school after my debut, no one bullied me... I was happy at first, with people I didn't even know talking to me... But they weren't suddenly interested in Rise Kujikawa... They wanted to hang out with Risette. The bullying stopped, but... I felt like none of them saw the real me. In my heart, I've always thought... 'this isn't the real me...' Funny, huh? I was the one who wanted to change, and..."

Her hands smoothed down her tight capri pants. She was looking at him, and he knew that she wasn't just talking about herself.

"But none of that matters now! I'm done being Risette! Now I have people who know the real me. Plus, I have power that can help everyone... I love that!" She held up his hands, so that they were right in front of his face. "We have that power together, Senpai... that's what matters first. And... being the person that would help all of these people every day, the person you are... that's as real as it gets." She blushed. "You're Senpai... Souji-kun. If you know that, then you know who you are."

"Rise..." Souji's eyes lowered.

"And this time, I'm going to change into a Rise that everyone can like!" She smiled. "Keep an eye out for her, Senpai!" She stood. "And come walk me home."

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (?)-<strong>

Hamuko Arisato stood tall even as her friends had fallen around her. With the light and the heat of Nyx before her, she raised her finger...

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Naoto stood on the roof of Yasogami High School and watched the fog roll in. She was scheduled to meet with the others-the ones who, and she was still having a bit of trouble with this part planned or no, had saved her-she would meet them tomorrow. Tonight, though, she was trying to keep her hands from shaking. It wasn't from the cold, though the rains had only let up a short time ago and her cap was still dripping. It was knowing that as that fog rose up, it was dissipating in that other world, the world of the other Naoto, inside the television. If she had still been in there tonight, she would be dead. And no amount of ingenuity would have saved her. Nothing her grandfather had taught her, nothing that she had picked up from years of experience. She would be dead, unquestionably.

But that was only part of what bothered her. The other part, the part that she knew she still couldn't tell them when they met at the Junes food court (their "secret headquarters," which sounded so much like the "secret base" that she had formed for herself within the television that it made her a little ill)...

Why had the shadow, her shadow, said nothing about the mysterious boy who haunted her grandfather's study? Why had that last painful and confusing fact been held back?

She was still adjusting to the possession of her persona. Small, with blue wings... it looked like nothing so much as a butterfly.

There was a figure stalking through the fog below. She looked down and found herself looking eye-to-eye, even from the third-story roof, with Kanji Tatsumi. It was a quick moment, and then the tall boy in the leather jacket broke the look, hunched up his shoulders, and all but ran away.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal to the Seal)-<strong>

_Minato rubbed at his face, while Akinari doodled in the sand with a stick. _

_"I beat it. If that's the word." He looked at his hands, which he'd never have thought as "manly" or "rough" before, but compared to her gentle, graceful... "I did better even than I did before... I saved Shinjiro. I saved him!" He was breathing far too heavily. "Kenji found who he really belonged with this time. Yuko helped Kaz without me. And, and I hadn't even known how Saori was hurting, the first time... but... I lost Nozomi..." _

_"And in the end, you made the same choice." Akinari was drawing animals. The alligator from his story, and a few others. They were like the doodles that had been in his notebook. One bear, though, looked familiar in a different way. _

_"Yeah... yeah, I did..." _

_"I think he gave you a gift, Minato-kun." As always, Akinari's smile was beatific. "I think you should treasure it."_

* * *

><p>"Do you remember when we fought?" Elizabeth looked cold. "It was a glorious battle."<p>

Somehow she understood when he thought the word _No_.

"It happened. It..." She tried to form a shape with her hands, but failed. "Time is hard to explain to you. There is a you with very little difference to you now, but had fought with me before you met Nyx." She smiled. "Do not be alarmed... I asked you to do so. It meant a great deal to me. There is, I think, another you, who fought with my sister, as well." She looked out into the Void. "There are many of you, and only one of me. Perhaps that is what humans call "being greedy?"

Which one, he tried to ask her, is the real one?

She shook her head. "All of them are real, all of them are you. Some of them are very different. In some, you are not you. This is harder to explain...

Maybe not, he sent out to her. I just thought... she might have been my sister.

Elizabeth looked... sheepish? Or was that the wrong word? "Not as such. Not as you're remembering."

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Naoto and Souji were eating at Aiya's, discussing the case of the Phantom Thief.

Tell him, her heart cried, maybe he could help.

Don't be a fool, her head whispered, and her head always won.

That day, at Club Escapade. A wisp of a girl in a Gekkoukan uniform came and found her, brave shell over brittle, and despite her innocence and her femininity, Naoto saw a disturbing mirror image of herself in the student council president, who handed her a letter at the behest of her predecessor.

It was a lot of florid language, and some legalese to boot, but Naoto understood it well enough: "Stay out of it if you know what's good for you."

She crumpled it in her fist and was storming out when Souji and his nakama bustled in, all but blocking her exit.

She told herself that case was unrelated to their current one, their real case, and that what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. And she told herself, as she always did, that she didn't need anyone else's help.

Though this was the first time that she'd begun to wonder if perhaps someone needed her. Not as an investigator, but as a...

...A what?

Souji was saying something in between mouthfuls about "Kanji-kun," and her musings tilted, like a ship making a too-quick correction of course. She moved to change the subject.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

_Minato was sitting with Shinjiro. Neither of them spoke, but Minato was worse off, because he couldn't even turn to look. _

_Time passed. All time did was pass, forever and ever. Minato was probably a trillion years old. _

_Or maybe not. Because one of the only blessings that he'd been afforded so far was that he hadn't once seen Koro-chan. _

_Of all the things to feel, since becoming the Seal, he'd never expected awkwardness. _

_Shinjiro sniffed. _

_"Hey..." Minato croaked out. "That time... on the full moon... when you knew about the club's power outage..." _

_Shinjiro shifted. _

_"...Are you a Risette fan?"_

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Yosuke grabbed Souji's shoulder and held him back as the the rest of the group went on towards the love hotel that was serving as their accomodations for the duration of the school trip. "Hey, partner... you okay?"

Rise and Yukiko were babbling semi-drunkenly, Chie was consulting a tourist's map (without a lucid Rise to guide them back) and Kanji had Teddie slung over one shoulder as they walked, their backs all receding into the distance. Naoto, he knew, was lingering just a little, slowing just enough to hear. "I'm fine."

"Dude, c'mon, it's me, all right? You've been a little zonked since the..." Shapeless gestures. "...The lectures, or whatever they were. I swear, that whole King's Game, you're like a zombie."

"Ever feel like someone's walked over your grave?" Souji's eyes were trained on the back of Naoto's head. The "boy in the hat" was still a little hard to trust, even if Souji had known what to say to his best friend.

"Yeah, once. But you bailed me out." Souji turned and looked at him, and the innocent smile on Yosuke's face almost killed him.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

Elizabeth had returned. This time, for the first time, she was smiling. Really smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>-2012-<strong>

Aiya's Chinese Diner. Naoto swirled the meat around her plate with one chopstick.

The farewell party, such as it was, had been hopeful to a point, but when the train was out of view, and Rise and Nanako couldn't hold back the tears any longer, Naoto had faded into the crowds. That the first sprinklings of rain followed soon after made it all the easier to blend into the night. Now she was regarding a meal that she hadn't actually wanted to eat.

The door jingled and someone entered. "Gimme the Rainy Day Meat Dimension." Naoto made a futile attempt to pull her hat further down over her face and leaned into her plate, but he had already seen her. Kanji tugged at the bottom of his leather jacket for a moment before approaching slowly, as though she would draw her pistol any moment. "Uh, hey."

She gave the briefest nod.

"They, uh, they wondered where you..." He looked away. "Anyway, not my business, I guess."

"Thank you." Her face felt warm, and she wondered with panic whether she was...

"Order's up!" Aiya's owner placed the world's largest beef bowl on the counter, and Kanji turned.

"Oh, uh, I guess I better..."

She sighed. "Oh, just sit here, already. It's asinine to pretend that we don't notice each other."

"Oh... kay." He collected the large bowl and placed it on the table, sliding into the seat opposite her. He stared at the bowl. "...The Hell was I thinking?"

She risked a glance upward at him. "I thought your appetite was well-known."

"Yeah, well, you know..." He nodded to her own plate.

"I see. Right." That her mental state was so obvious only provoked further embarrassment, and she looked back down.

They sat in silence.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal...?)-<strong>

_"I'm impressed." Hidetoshi was standing with his arms crossed. "I can't imagine what she had to do to figure it out." _

_The fog had dissipated completely. _

_Minato looked at his shoes. "But what if it doesn't work? What if it makes things messed up all over again? I mean, there are rules." _

_Hidetoshi crouched down so that he could look Minato in the eyes. "Break them."_

* * *

><p><strong>-2012-<strong>

Naoto and Kanji could not look at each other, and they could not eat. Some of the other patrons were beginning to eye them curiously. Finally, Kanji rubbed at his neck and looked away. "Yeah, uh, this was stupid, entirely on my part, so I'm sorry, I know I bothered you, maybe I should go..."

She looked up, and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "I have a brother."

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time...?)-<strong>

The void filled with light.

He found his breath, and then held it.

And he prayed that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

><p><strong>-2020-<strong>

The lights rose, and the crowd went wild.

Japan's hottest pop idol took to the stage, and the giant screen closed in on her face, so she could give that famous wink to the folks as far back in the crowd as... well, in a Risette show, they said that every seat was a "nose bleed" seat.

She'd tried to reserve the Moonlight Bridge for this show, until the city protested—nobody was entirely sure why she'd wanted it, but her decisions had been strange ever since her comeback tour some years ago. First, she'd gone out of her way to woo back Inoue-san, her old manager, and had even done a special charity concert with her old protégé-turned-rival to prove that there were no hard feelings. It was after that, though, that the strange ideas began slipping into her career one at a time—her fans were shocked to discover that she'd lowballed her going rate to appear in a commercial for the department store chain Junes, and alongside their doofy teddy bear mascot, to boot. And yet, nobody could complain, as she'd returned with a passion and a talent that even her fans had not expected from her.

The tabloids, though, were quick to posit that it was due to the silver-haired paramour who seemed attached to her hip.

Risette slipped the microphone from its cradle and whipped the cord behind her. There was a brief pause, and the audience went silent. And then she had a new song for them. The audience erupted when they saw her backup singers – two of the former members of the hit group _MUSES_.

_...Dream of a butterfly, or is life a dream  
>Don't wanna wake up, 'cause I'm happier here<em>

_I was glad just to have you by my side  
>It was the only reality I needed<em>

_But it was all just a dream  
>Swaying and dissolving like bubbles in the dark ocean<br>When I woke up, no one was really there_

_There is nothing certain  
>Reaching for the shimmering shape in vain<br>That, I know is true in this place_

_What should I believe in to live on in this ever changing world?_

_I'm drowning (I can't believe in you)  
>In sadness (but I cannot forget you)<br>Calling out as I saw you (I will dig up my faith)  
>That night (and march on)<em>

_I believed (I cannot see ahead)  
>That it's because (but I can't keep standing still)<br>You are by my side (So I will close my eyes)  
>That I could grow strong (and march on)<em>

_I was afraid (Can't lay the blame on you)  
>Of sadness (but I cannot forgive you)<br>Crying as I called out to you (So drenched up in rain)  
>That day (I'll march on)<em>

_I realized (I cannot face the sun)  
>My weaknesses (but I cannot dream at night)<br>Are because of you (So under the moonlight)  
>They all are (I'll march on)...<em>

And then she slipped back into one of her old classics, and the show was an unsurprising hit. In between numbers, when there was a scheduled pause to switch out instruments and she could slip backstage for a greedy downing of a waiting water bottle, she caught glimpse of her new husband.

They'd had to marry in secret to keep the reporters away, but the important people had (mostly) been in attendance. Ryotaro Dojima and his beloved daughter, of course, and her grandmother; Yosuke had been his best man (she was a sucker for Western-style weddings—and the look of shock on Naoto's face when she'd been asked to be maid of honor had been worth all the hassle for both of them, though it eased up when they offered to let her wear a tuxedo like the boys... and yet there she'd been in a dress that her own husband had designed and stitched together himself!), and there had been an all-too-short honeymoon night in the Amagi Inn.

And when she'd woken up the following morning, and he was grilling freshly-caught fish in the suite's kitchen, she'd found her notebook open to a new page, and that song's lyrics waiting there, without comment. It had been, and still was, the only time he'd made a suggestion regarding her career; he trusted her in a way that still made her feel like a high school first year, seeing him come to her rescue with a _golf club_ in hand that very first time. And so, she'd wanted to try the song for him. But imagine Inoue-san's shock, and (to be perfectly honest) her own, when they realized how good the song actually was.

The song for all its beauty was a sad one, and there was a brief moment that morning when she'd worried that he'd been trying to tell her something. But his face, with all its goofy earnestness as he laid the plates down on the table, had made it clear to her that it wasn't about them; it was about other pain, things that he'd told only her in the days of the Hanged Man Killings, and after.

Backstage, he smiled at her, and she only had time to wave before she took the stage again. She saw the love in the faces of the fans before her, and couldn't help laughing a little—because they loved Risette, but he loved _all_ of her, and always would. And more than that, she loved _him_, and she understood him in a way that the others didn't, couldn't... because _she_ had been the one that he'd finally told about the Blue Door, and about Teddie, and about the Boy on the Train—the one he still dreamed about some nights in an inexplicable panic, the nights when he would hold onto her, and rely on her strength the way that she'd relied upon his for so long.

* * *

><p><strong>-2012-<strong>

Souji looked at the picture, and his finger lightly slid along Rise's smiling face, before he put it back in his pocket. The train was already lulling him to sleep...

"Excuse me..." There was a gentle voice, and Souji opened his eyes to see a boy, a man, in the vicinity of his own age, gesturing towards the seat across from him. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, go ahead." He rubbed at his eyes as the other man sat down. The man was dressed in a black school uniform, with a logo that Souji found vaguely familiar. He tried to smile, but the pain at leaving Inaba was still just a little raw, and he looked instead towards the window.

The other man, whose eyes kept slipping away beneath his bangs, put his hands in his pockets and hummed along quietly with whatever was playing in his headphones, which only reminded Souji of the best friend he'd left behind. At Souji's look, however, he unclipped his headphones. "I'm sorry, am I bothering you?"

"No, it's all right." Souji shook his head. "I'm just... distracted. It's not your fault."

Mr. Headphones nodded silently, and looked out the window himself. "It's beautiful. Is that your hometown?"

"No..." Souji rubbed the bridge of his nose with one finger. "But it's home." He blinked. "Sorry, I didn't..." He offered a slight bow. "Souji Seta."

His traveling companion returned the favor. "Minato Arisato."

"So... where are you headed?" Souji crossed his legs.

"Back home... I think." Minato looked up.

Souji felt the familiar buzz of a person hiding an issue that they already knew how to solve. "You think?"

"I've... been away for a couple of years. And... I'm not sure if it won't be more confusing. For me to be back in their lives." He looked sheepish. "You know, I was always the one they looked to, but... I always needed them more than they needed me. And they've had a chance to move on. That sounds pathetic, doesn't it?"

"No, not really." Souji's hand drifted to his pocket, where instead of a pair of glasses, there was a single photograph. "The people you love, though... you need each other. And you don't ever forget each other. Even if you go away for a long time... they'll always be there when you come home."


	4. An Answer to a Question Nobody Asked

**-2009 (Stray Sheep, Third Day)-**

_**- - G A M E O V E R - -**_

"God dammit." Orlando Haddick slapped the _Rapunzel_ machine and, with wishful thinking, fished his finger into coin return bay. He could never be so lucky. In fact, in an idle thought he wondered if he'd experienced a single bit of solid luck since she'd left him.

"Hey, get back over here!" Jonny Ariga waved him over from their usual table. That was less likely to mean "I missed your company" as it did "Save me from Toby," so Orlando amused himself by stalling; he loitered by the jukebox, finally keying up a track. "Lamb Game between and " - yeah, that sounded about right. "Orlando!" He sighed.

"He's not going to stop asking." Erica Anderson had appeared at his side with a single shake of her hips.

"Why don't _you_ go distract Toby?" Orlando looked at the distressingly attractive Erica and tried to block out what she looked like in high school.

"Jeeeealous?" She winked, and he pulled his hat brim over his eyes.

"Not even a little bit, Erica." At this point, the young mechanic was the lesser of two evils, and so Orlando plopped himself back into his booth, where The Boss had left a fresh drink waiting. Jonny was looking at him, pleadingly. Jonny's eyes were bloodshot, and his cigarette had burned down without touching his lips. Orlando knew that face – he was wearing it now, himself. Vincent's face, at least without that dumbfounded look. The nightmares were... well, not _spreading_, nightmares don't _spread_, not like how Erica claimed, but maybe it was a memetic thing? Orlando understood machines, this wetware stuff was too much for him.

"Hey, Orlando..." Toby Nebbins was, as always, bouncing just a bit in his seat. Normally a look from Jonny was enough to calm him down, but Jonny was half-awake today. "The Chief doesn't want me to look into that space tourism thing."

"That's because you'll never afford it." Orlando held up his drink. "False hope, Toby." Toby cast a glance over at Erica, and Jonny rolled his eyes.

"I still can't believe this is a thing that people can just go do. Go off into space on a joyride." He stubbed out his cigarette.

"Blame the Japanese." Orlando shrugged. "They've leaped so far ahead lately. They made it possible in the first place, and we're offering it now to be competitive."

Toby looked from one older man to the other. "Why are they so far ahead, then? Are they smarter?" Jonny punched Toby on the arm. "Ow! Hey, what was that for?"

"Well, they could be, or could not be, but it's sort of irrelevant." Orlando sniffed. "Since the thirties, they've been moving forward nonstop – they were smart enough to stay out of world wars, and they made friends with us when it looked like a good idea. That's just my opnion, anyway."

"You don't need to go into space, Toby." Jonny shook his head. "Your head's in the clouds already." He glanced over at the bar's entrance, and winced. "Anyway, history time's over, back to psychology."

Vincent Brooks slumped over to them, dropped roughly next to Orlando, and slammed his head into the table. "Katherine's pregnant."

Orlando winced. "Game over."

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Three: An Answer to a Question Nobody Asked**

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

_Threecorn, Indiana_, said the sign rolling by, and Anna Tracer's hands drummed on the wheel.

The car ahead was her mother's, and she'd already gotten bumper stickers with cutsie "I'm divorced" one-liners plastered all over. She'd been scowling for the last hour and a half of driving. In the car's rear windshield, she saw her little brother's head poke up, stick out his tongue at her.

She cranked her radio up louder, remembered the weird dream of the night before.

Everything had been blue.

* * *

><p>A farmer reported the Thing In The Cornfield on a Tuesday. He was ignored, of course, but he kept bringing enough people by, who would then report the very same, that authorities finally obliged. It was the following Monday when Sgt. John Stone got his orders.<p>

And now he was on a bus, passing by the sign for Threecorn, Indiana. Called back to the base from leave.

He didn't like operating like this on native soil. He didn't like how hush-hush everything seemed to be. And he didn't like the weird-ass dream he'd had the night before.

Everything had been blue.

* * *

><p>The rented car all but fishtailed as the driver made a last-second lane change. The passenger, twenty-two-year old Ken Amada, grabbed the handle built-in above his window. "Whoa!"<p>

A sign flew past him, welcoming him to Threecorn, Indiana.

The car's driver, a beautiful woman in a designer, heart-laden jacket, was grinning. "C'mon, Amada! Live a little!" She wasn't used to driving on an American road, but it didn't seem like there was much that Maya Amano couldn't adapt to.

Ken had never been entirely clear with Maya on the fate of his mother; he wondered for a brief moment if the official version of the story would have caused her not to be so rough on the road. But he didn't like mentioning the incident, when he couldn't tell the truth.

Particularly not to a woman who had been so encouraging in his choice of career path-he had, after all, been all of twelve or thirteen when they first met-and so kind to him overall, the occasional scare notwithstanding. She thought of herself as his senpai, and he knew it. He just already had a very select group of people who'd earned that title the hard way. Maya had no idea, he thought, that she was mentoring the story of the century, and he was a little bitter about keeping it that way.

He pulled the map out of the glovebox and unfolded the part pertaining to Threecorn. If you were to limit yourself to, say, only the half-dozen most important landmarks, it wasn't hard to figure out what to look for. There was the farmland to the west, which was basically part of town by property line only. There was the military base to the southeast, which was their final destination. There was the—he tried to remember the word in English—the "sprawl," a collection of department stores and strip malls to the northeast where the town reached out to touch the highway. There was the town square.

And – and this one Ken only noted from past experience – there was a high school.

"Well, we're almost there." Maya smiled at him. "Let's settle in, take it easy, and start early tomorrow. If we're lucky, maybe we can treat the rest of the week as a vacation in America."

Ken nodded, and pointed towards the windshield, so that she would look back and see the bus that she'd almost rammed into. She hardly paid it heed, just turned the volume up on the Risette CD and sang along.

_...Your affection_

_Your affection_

_Taking pride from fear  
>Past will tell you when to make yourself a hero...<em>

He figured it was going to be a long week.

But they wouldn't leave town for a whole year.

* * *

><p>School started on September ninth. It was only first period, when he sat on her desk.<p>

"So, newbie! What's your name?" Anna Tracer looked up at her classmate, a... well, okay, he was handsome, would probably be more so if he got a more stylish pair of glasses and learned how to use an iron, but... His smirk was _trés_, _trés_ punchable. "What? Don't give me that look." He rolled his eyes. "I'm just trying to be friendly. Sheesh." He shook his head. "So, what rank is your dad?"

Her face clouded. She considered her options. Tell him it was none of his business? Ehh, it was her first day, she should really try harder than that. Be honest, or make something up? "I'm not... that isn't..." She winced. She just wasn't the sort of person who had the Courage or Expression required to explain herself.

Maybe it would just be easier if she just didn't talk for, like, the whole first year in town. Let everyone else do her talking for her. Or, you know, she could leap in front of a bus. Whichever.

"Huh. Sorry." The boy slid into a seat next to her. "Didn't mean nothin' by it." He held out his hand. "I'm Jeffrey. Jeff. Er, Waterhouse. It's okay, I totally suck with people, too. But, actually, a lot of the people here do, 'cause of the 'army brat' thing. You'll fit right in." She shook his hand, somewhat tentatively, and he nodded. "Cool. If you need any help, like with homework or whatever, let me know, okay?"

"Thanks," she said, and she meant it—she wasn't sure that Jeff Waterhouse was a boy that she would have associated with, in her old life, but here, adrift and new, she was grateful that someone had bothered to reach out.

But then the lights seemed to dim, the whispered voice spoke, and as she watched Jeff's receding back as he took off for his next class, she couldn't help but knit her brow as she pondered the idea that she was, was "cosmically destined," to hang out with a boy that she'd just met. What the Hell did that mean?

Anna had never been in love before, but she wasn't sure that it worked that way.

* * *

><p>Sgt. John Stone had barely dropped off his bags when he was led into a room to meet the new management.<p>

The briefing room was empty, except for three men who were muttering about his "psyche profile." Apparently, he was the best suited for... whatever it was they wanted him to do. Oddly, that offered no comfort or reassurance.

The man dressed like an IBM salesman from the fifties was obviously the government liaison (he knew how this sort of thing worked by now), and he of course knew the officer in the mustache as the base lieutenant, but it was the third one, with the cheap little "Hello My Name Is" sticker stuck to his breast pocket, who put him off. Even as introductions were made all around, he stood off to the side, watching John with one finger constantly rubbing or picking at his lips.

He later determined that the man was with something called "The Kirijo Foundation," but that didn't actually mean anything to him.

When the briefing was finished, one Corporal from his squad was loitering outside, back to a wall and a yo-yo spinning down from his fist.

"How'd it go in there, Sarge?" John just raised an eyebrow at him and kept walking, but Corporal Matthew Forrester followed right in step behind. "Hey, I didn't ask _what_ happened, I asked 'how was it,' like, did they put the grind on you?"

John had always been an able squad leader, but he had never really made friends with his team—he'd always been stuck in the middle between the rest of the grunts and the higher-ups, and it wasn't really a position that he enjoyed; he'd never, after all, been much of a people person. So Corporal Forrester's honest concern surprised him, perhaps unfairly, and he was just a little touched.

Which is when the lights seemed to dim for John, and the voices spoke, and John figured maybe he'd have to get used to calling Matthew by his first name.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Ken had dreams.<p>

They weren't dreams that made sense; not like the nightmares, which were clearly about things that had happened. The dreams, instead, were about things that could have been real, felt so close to real, that he often woke up wondering if he and his life, instead, were the dreams.

Naturally, Shinjiro was alive.

It was back on that one day, the one that had repeated. He would stare down into the Abyss, and he'd know that Shinjiro was standing behind him. Probably with his arms crossed, pretending to be bored by the whole thing. But there was such, such _nervous_ tension in his Senpai, he knew without even turning around.

Each time he dreamed, he wanted to turn around, to tell Shinjiro that it would be okay. Something he always recalled right before the dream was over, that Shinjiro hadn't wanted to come back to the dorm that day, that he'd blown off Fuuka-san in every phone call, and had only come back begrudgingly when the emergency call had gone out. But each time he went to turn around, he'd wake in his bed in sweat-stained sheets and feel like throwing up.

He'd consider calling Akihiko, and then instead turn over in bed, pull the covers over his face, and fail to get back to sleep.

* * *

><p>It had been Jeff's idea to explore on the other side of the rift. Of course. Anna was beginning to learn that Jeff was very book-smart, but he was also pretty street-<em>insane<em>. And when the monsters first showed up? Of course it was her that had to call out the giant thing in her head to fight them off, because why should he have to clean up his own mess?

And yet, when they both vowed to go back in? Yeah, she had no cogent explanation or excuse for _that_ one.

It's a good thing that they started collecting more people who were just as crazy as they were. Otherwise it'd be just the two of them, and that'd be _embarrassing_.

* * *

><p>An observation station was set up outside the rift, hidden in the farmer's old barn. The comms officer stayed stationed there, and operated as their "ground control" whenever they were inside. Naturally, it was Matthew who pointed out that being <em>inside<em> the rift was probably the worst position available for a team attempting to find a way to close it.

John had wanted to shout Matthew's head right down into his shirt collar, but that was when the giant insect-thing showed up. His reaction to the incident, and how quickly he pasted the ugly thing, led him a long way back towards crediting those messed-up dreams. The problem for John, though, came in wondering how the hell the ol' U.S. of A. had managed to peg him as the likely candidate.

"Guessin' you must be the Chosen Hee-ro, Sarge." Matthew elbowed him on their way back to the evac point. And John had no retort for that, because Hell if it didn't look that way on the surface of things.

* * *

><p><em>They were taking a vote around the table in the dorm lounge, as they had once before. This time, though, her presence was taken up by Shinjiro, who'd settled into her place at the table without a glance at the others. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes.<em>

_Mitsuru spoke first—her sacrifice was too important to dare tampering with, she said. They would use the key to open the door to the dorm building and try to regain their lives. It's what she would have wanted, she argued, and Yukari was quick to fall in line behind._

_Junpei's fists rapped against the table and he couldn't meet anyone's eyes. He was scared, scared to go against Nyx again, and maybe he wanted to go back and maybe he didn't, but he was too scared, too, of making the decision. It had been her, after all, who'd made the decisions for them. Koromaru had barked in solidarity._

_Shinjiro had listened to all of this quietly, and when the awkward silence began again to build up, he leaned forward, and told them that he was going back for her._

_Every pair of eyes turned to Shinjiro, and Ken thought it was unfair of them to be shocked._

_Ken didn't like the burning anger that he saw in Shinjiro's eyes whenever he looked at Aigis, it made him shake, but he thought about her smile, the way his heart had lifted every time she took him out—thought about the way she'd treated him like an adult. She'd said he'd grow to like coffee, and he was, slowly, but it was the milk he'd kept drinking for her sake._

_And he owed Shinjiro so much, too much to even voice aloud. And so he agreed with Shinjiro, despite his misgivings, and vowed to stand by his side. The older man had looked uncomfortable, had clearly wanted to push Ken aside for Ken's own benefit (always protecting him), and yet... there was an unmistakable gratitude there, deep down, that helped firm Ken's resolve._

_And so his gaze fell, along with Fuuka's and Aigis's (and everyone else's), to Akihiko, who didn't look up at all._

* * *

><p>Ken got an unfortunate call; unfortunate, in that the familiar voice caused him to spill his morning coffee all over himself.<p>

"Amada."

He scrambled to wipe the hot coffee from his lap. It was the blend that Shinjiro had once asked him to stock in the dorm, those few months where they had shared a home, and breathing in the dusky aroma as the sun rose was one of the only ways to think of him (and Minato, for that matter) without grief or regret. He was lucky that Maya had gone out early for... some reason.

"Amada?"

"I'm here." He had to regulate his tone with her, for all the good it would do.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

He sighed, dropped the mass of paper towels into a bin. "I'm fine, how are you?"

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry. You're right, that is rude and unfair."

"...I'm not even in the country right now, anyway," Ken offered, but he wasn't surprised when this didn't faze her.

"I know. That's why I'm asking you. Do you have a pen?"

He wanted to say no. "Yes."

"If I understand it correctly..." As though she'd ever make a mistake! "They are opening a new branch of Junes in the town where you're staying."

"Yes... We drove past it coming in." Ken frowns. "I didn't think they had them in America."

"It's branching out." This digression seemed to bore her. "I believe that the corporation is angling for a buy-out from one of the similar American retailer chains. At any rate, I want you to see if you can get hired onto the staff that's there, setting up the store for its grand opening."

"Okay." He went over to the motel room door and pulled on his shoes. He was still unused to the way everyone in America walked all over the damned place in their shoes, tracking dirt around in people's homes. "Who am I supposed to be spying on?"

"I'll give you a physical description." And it was a thorough one, too thorough for her not to know the guy's name, too. Which meant, Ken understood, that he wasn't supposed to identify with the man. Was he a target of some kind? "And, Amada... this should be safe, but... be careful, nonetheless. I still have fondness for you."

"Yes, Senpai." Though you had a funny way of showing it. "What time is it, there?" But she'd already hung up.

When Ken was still only thirteen or so, Maya had once almost caught him, when he was using the copiers at work to make a double of the Shirogane file that he had stolen. The data was comprehensive, and it would take longer to study than he'd hoped; he needed to replace the originals before the detective's investigations got Mitsuru's further attention.

"It's for a school project," he mumbled awkwardly at Maya, and when she offered to help he all but panicked. But someone else called her away, and he stuffed everything into his bag. Better to use the library next time.

It was happenstance only, that Ken had been visiting Mitsuru at the offices of the newly-minted Kirijo Foundation when Naoto Shirogane's name had first come up. Mitsuru had tried to deflect him, as he'd just tried to deflect Maya; Ken, however, at least knew what the report on her desk had to concern, for her to want him not to see. After that, it just took a little cleverness, and (Mitsuru's weakness) a little bit of embarrassment.

They were keeping tabs on the private detective, who was working on a serial murder case in a small rural town called Inaba—one that Ken was aware of from school. Apparently, Shirogane-san had spent an abnormal amount of time digging into things like what had happened in Iwatodai, and Mitsuru's response had been characteristically calculated—the leak of a project file from her grandfather's days, on what Personas and Shadows were believed to be... and a hand-delivered message to the detective to stay out of it.

Ken knew that Mitsuru didn't want the truth to go public. He didn't want that either, exactly—he knew it would cause a panic—but the attempts to keep things under wraps had led to things like his mother's death—and Shinjiro's, and Mitsuru's own father's—to be written off as accidents, and that he couldn't stand.

So he would take matters into his own hands, and compile as much data as he could—he'd figure out the best solution as he went along.

* * *

><p><em>The arena was lit by several torches. Ken squinted, and he could see what looked like human figures softly revolving in the center of each flame. Mitsuru... Yukari... Junpei... Koromaru...<em>

_Shinjiro made a clucking noise at the four people standing on the other side of the arena. "Hell of a game you guys are playing."_

_Aigis couldn't meet their eyes, and Metis didn't look like she understood the remark... but Akihiko reeled back as though he'd been hit. Ken wanted to reach out to him, but..._

"_No, really. Four against two. I can see the conviction, here." Shinjiro pulled off his cap. "Ain't gonna prove you're right, if you stomp us. I'll kick my way back up from Hell to stop you from doing something this stupid."_

_Fuuka covered her eyes. "Shinjiro-san..."_

"_Don't make us _do_ this!" Akihiko raised his fists. "I... not even for you, I can't..."_

"_Tch." Shinjiro swung his axe loosely to the side, and replaced his hat. "Let's get this shit over with."_

_Ken tried to find the words, any words, to stop what was about to happen. But none came. And so he lifted his spear._

* * *

><p>The Junes lobby was open, so that they could take applications. Ken stepped in through the sliding doors, and jammed his hands in his pockets. Maya had called him on the way over.<p>

"Something really big is up, after all. Rumors in town are all crazy, something about a UFO out in the cornfield, if you can believe it. And the base called off the interview." She sounded far too excited. "I'm gonna need your help. Meet at lunch?"

"Sure." He should be there already, and instead he was here, looking at a cardboard standee of the Junes mascot, a blue bear in a red and white clown suit.

* * *

><p>...Lost destiny<p>

Far outcry

They hear you no more  
>Numb feeling<p>

Whole dizziness

Deep scars

No pain  
>No sanity<p>

Body aching

Control your own face  
>Invisible real enemy<p>

Ruin your mind deep down...

_Ken barely brought his spear up quickly enough to block a rushing punch from Aigis. The force knocked him backwards, and he was only just able to plant the point in the ground and spin around the pole to kick her in the face._

_He could hear Fuuka's voice, from deep within Juno's protective shell. _"Be careful! Ken is invulnerable to light attacks, and Shinjiro to dark!"_ Those were instant-kill attacks, and the way that Aigis seemed to re-file that information away as she turned to line up another shot scared him. Would they really... kill them both, just to get the keys?_

_Akihiko and Shinjiro were fighting, halfway across the arena floor. They were moving so fast, he could barely track the moves, but even with the disparity of their choice in weapons, they were so evenly matched, neither giving an inch of ground... Akihiko threw an uppercut inside of Shinji's axe swing, and he in turn pulled back on the axe handle, collapsing Aki's elbow and drawing him in close enough for a vicious headbutt to the nose. They were fighting too hard to feel._

_They had been fighting each other all their lives, and it was a kind of love that Ken didn't quite understand, a kind he'd wanted for himself. Now, though, this was different. He was rolling beneath machine gun fire from Aigis and still, he was more afraid for the two men, brothers, who were out for each other's blood._

_Ken hadn't yet studied Greek mythology or Roman history or any of the sources of their Persona's titles; and so when Shinjiro's Persona had ascended upon Hamuko's death, he'd been confused at the way Akihiko had laughed when he'd heard its name. Who, he'd asked Shinjiro later, afraid the older man would laugh at him, was "Brutus?"_

_Ken called for Kala-Nemi, and a bolt of lightning shot from his hand into Aigis. Circuits shorted out, and her neck twisted at an inhuman angle, but she moved as if it had barely fazed her, punching forward with the force of a God's Hand. He barely dodged past, and the force propelled her past and allowed some distance between them, which he took advantage of with a series of healing spells directed at both Shinjiro and himself._

_Then he saw Metis._

_Ken still, after all this time, had no idea what to think about Aigis's sister, the black-clad robot who had appeared at the moment of the Abyss of Time's opening—and who had immediately attacked him, nearly killing him without a thought. The others, it seemed, were none too comfortable with her either, but Aigis had apparently reached some kind of agreement with her, and since then they'd been inseparable. In truth, it had made his skin crawl, working alongside her, but... hadn't he only joined SEES in the first place in order to kill the man that he now stood beside, in defiance of his own better judgement?_

_Metis spoke softly. "Entering Orgia Mode." She aimed square at Ken, and it almost looked like she was smiling._

"_Shinjiro-senpai!" Ken used his spear to pole vault over the leaping Aigis, but he'd never close the gap in time._

_But Shinjiro darted to the side, then, out of his clutch with Akihiko, and got his arms around Metis's arms and neck in a sleeper hold. It was too late for Metis to disengage Orgia, and steam poured from her eyes as she began firing repeatedly from her fingers. Her massive hammer clanged to the floor, and Shinjiro almost tripped, but he managed to pull Metis around, directing her fire away from Ken—and towards Akihiko._

_Seeing it, Akihiko hesitated. Just for a second, but a second was enough._

* * *

><p>Yosuke Hanamura didn't seem like a bad man. He seemed like a sad one, and yes, maybe a little slow, but a good person. But Ken remembered his name from the Shirogane file. He was a Persona-user. And as he'd learned from Junpei Iori, sometimes the most dangerous men were the ones who didn't let you see how seriously they truly took the world.<p>

He first appears in an apron, with plaster in his hair, and a pair of headphones around his neck. The headphones remind Ken of Minato, and make him just a little angry. But no, this man with tired eyes just mumbles out a "Every day's great at your Junes!" and looks over Ken's application with skepticism.

"I'm a recent transfer student," Ken lies, and Hanamura seems relieved and grateful to speak Japanese again with someone, anyone. He tells Ken, English had been one of his best subjects in high school, but that it wasn't saying much.

"Do you have an American work permit? Or, a green card, or..." He scratched his head, unsure of what Ken actually does need.

"I just..." Ken tries to put the little boy mask on again, the one he'd worn during that first summer month at the dorm, and he can see Hanamura cracking a little bit already. "I need someplace to go. I could... I could help you with my English!"

Some construction worker or something, someone helping set up the shelving, hollers at them from the sales floor in English. "Geez, Yosuke, we all figured you swung that way, but little boys?"

Hanamura tenses up, and looks ready to explode. His English was good enough to understand that remark, at least. Ken takes a step back.

"I should maybe leave you alone."

When the Junes manager turns back, his eyes are clenched shut, and Ken's application is crushed in his fist. "I'll meet you tomorrow, no, Wednesday is better. That diner in the town square. I'll pay you wages for English tutoring. _Okay_?" Spit out so angrily, it left Ken with little choice but to nod. It was like Hanamura had something to prove, but Ken couldn't guess to whom.

* * *

><p><em>Aigis moved first, and even as Ken was course-correcting, she was interposed between Akihiko and the rapid-fire, taking a series of armor-piercing shells in the chest.<em>

_If Metis understood that she had harmed the sister that she'd sworn to protect, she didn't show it. She was in the process of overheating, and when Shinjiro let her go, she slumped to the floor in a heap. Aigis, on the other hand, was trying to get back to her feet, though her damage was extensive. Akihiko just stared at his best friend in shock._

"_How could you?"_

_Shinjiro picked his axe back up and slung it over his shoulder. "How couldn't I? Why do you think I'm doing this, Aki?"_

"_But... this..."_

"_No _buts_!" Shinji swung the axe down hard, burying it in the ground at Akihiko's feet. Ken caught up to them and stopped short before he tripped over it. "I'm gonna go back and get her! Someone has to!"_

"_Shinji..." Akihiko held up his open palms. "What she did... there had to be a reason... we can't just take that away."_

"_Then let _me_ die instead, dammit!" Shinji slapped his own chest. "I'm going to die anyway! If the drugs don't do it, then the Brut' will! I'll go do whatever she had to, like I would have in the first place if I hadn't been..." He turned away from both of them, hunching up his shoulders. "No reason good enough for it to be her and not me."_

"_We all loved her," started Akihiko, but Shinji was on him in a minute, his fist around Aki's shirt collar._

"_You don't get to say that." He shoved Akihiko back. "You know what finally got her to talk to me? Her being all sick with worry about you." Aigis had finally gotten to a standing position, and her self-repairing functions were beginning to kick in. He pointed at her. "You stay there, Pinocchio, the men are talking."_

_Ken laid a hand on the man's sleeve. "Shinjiro-senpai..."_

_But he only glared at Akihiko. "You know why she chose _me_?" He chuckled darkly. "Because I was the one who gave a damn."_

* * *

><p>Apparently, the rift had opened the week previous. It had already grown. It was similar to the thing in Antarctica, the thing he'd heard Mitsuru's staff discuss in whispered tones when they thought he wasn't listening.<p>

Ken stood in the cornfield and watched the hole in space as it seemed to rotate. He wanted more than anything to step inside, to see if it was like Tartarus. But Maya would wonder where he had gone. Instead, he called Mitsuru.

"Yes?"

"I need a favor."

"I'm fine, Amada, how are you?" With a slight mocking tone. This was as close to good humor as Mitsuru got, and so he pressed his advantage.

"I need you to cancel my scholarship, and get me enrolled in an American high school." Even at twenty-two, he could pass for younger.

Oddly, or not, she didn't question him at all.

* * *

><p><em>Aigis laid a hand on Akihiko's shoulder. "I understand, Shinjiro-san. From the time of my birth, I have thought of nothing but her."<em>

"_Tch." Shinjiro shook his head. "Why the Hell did you get her power? Never mind, I know why." He looked over at Ken. "When you messed up, and you hurt a kid, you found a way to move on and protect them. I didn't."_

_Ken took Shinjiro's hand. "But, Shinjiro-senpai... you _did_."_

* * *

><p>His first day as a transfer student didn't go that well. It started after first period, when he was the only one who didn't get up to move to his next class. Apparently, nobody had told him that in America, it wasn't the teachers who moved around. And while his English was good, enough to get Maya to agree to bring him along in the first place, he was finding that it wasn't always good enough to follow the lessons.<p>

He _did_ find a likely suspect, however. A girl in his homeroom, conveniently enough, Anna Tracer, had all the signs. She didn't talk much, but when she was called on, she always seemed to have the answers. When she wasn't called on, she spent about half the time dozing. Sometimes he saw her rip small corners from her notebook paper and chew it. And while she acted awkward and anti-social, it seemed like everyone in the school was captivated by her, wanted her to solve their problems.

She was almost _too_ much like Minato.

* * *

><p><em>They agreed to go back—to watch. To see, and to understand.<em>

_Shinjiro took one look at Erebus, and lifted his axe. "All right... let's do this."_

* * *

><p>Anna tried to talk to everyone in town, every day. This was physically impossible, of course, but the attempt tended to pay off. People needed help, and they had information or useful tools and goods in exchange. And some people gave out information without requiring anything, although that information tended to be things she already suspected in one way or another. The best of them became something close to friends—though, not to the extent of the bonds that she was forging with particular people.<p>

One student, though, had been hard to get a hold of, a more recent exchange student than even herself, apparently some kind of last-minute addition from Japan. He had a perpetual dark expression, frequently hidden within the billowing hood of his threadbare orange sweatshirt. Anna had him pegged right away as the angry, brooding type who turned out to have a soft, squishy center; what she hadn't expected was that he would feed her a continual line of BS, the more she got to know him. He seemed interested in her, though maybe not so much in _that_ way, and was always asking her difficult questions.

Sometimes, she expected that this "Ken Amada" knew more than he was letting on, like he was following her and the others around. She wanted to talk to Jeff about it, but could never figure out what to say, what proof to offer of her suspicions. It was hard enough explaining to him, and to the others, why she was always running off to participate in after school programs and hanging out with strangers rather than focusing on the clear and present danger affecting their town.

It only got worse when they'd try shopping at Junes for supplies (the American branches sold rifles and ammunition to compete with other big box stores, and Aaron was always upgrading his weapons), because when Anna started thinking the store manager was watching them, too, that _had_ to be paranoia.

But then, the whole town seemed to be growing paranoid. Rumors were rampant, more than even a small town should expect, and taken even more seriously, as well. While the military had done a good job keeping the rift out in the cornfield under wraps, the "UFO" story had drawn in tourists and counterculture people from all over. The town was adopting a new identity a bit at a time—the diner in the town square even had a little spaceship next to its logo, now. It made Anna wonder... what would happen when they finally got the rift closed?

* * *

><p>John had found himself volunteering for an increasing number of irrelevant errands for other people, since he'd dreamed of the strange little man in the blue room. He was always finding strange trinkets for people he barely knew, or ferrying packages, or relaying messages. Usually, he was given physical compensation in some fashion, but sometimes the tasks were so arbitrary, and the reward so ephemeral, he wasn't sure why he bothered.<p>

It was on one of these runs, bringing an overly-specific assortment of Topsicles to a guy doing KP on the base, that he first saw the reporter.

"Excuse me!" She was on the other side of the fence, waving him down. "Excuse me!"

He turned to one of the men on guard duty at the nearby gate. "Who is that?"

"Says she's with a Tokyo newspaper, Sarge." The guard shrugged. "We've been told her clearance to enter the base has been revoked, but she won't listen." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you could..."

John sighed. As he was doing everyone _else_'s job, why not? He stalked over to where the woman was all but scrambling up the chain link to get in. "Can I help you, Miss...?"

"Yes! Thank you!" She patted her chest. "Maya Amano. I was supposed to be allowed access, I came all the way from Japan to do a feature..."

She was beautiful, though her jacket was pretty much the most hideous thing he'd ever seen that wasn't trying to kill him. Her English wasn't bad, behind the accent, probably give it a solid B to B+. He weighed his options on what to say, figured he could bend his "need to know" rule on this one. "What was that feature on, again?"

She grew still. "Oh, well... Sort of a 'day in the life' of an American soldier, you know? What's the term... human interest?"

Even if he couldn't tell how she was obviously lying, it wouldn't fit together—there was no need to fly to America when there were bases overseas she could annoy. The question, then, was why lie? She couldn't be lying about her credentials, that was too easy to check. He scratched at his stubble.

"Tell you what, Miss Amano-san. I'll talk to the CO and figure out what's going on with your clearance. But I am _not_ promising you anything, you hear me? In return, you've gotta leave those poor boys at the gate alone."

"Yes! Of course!" She bowed. "Thank you so much!" He could feel her warm gratitude...

...And then there was that familiar buzz. Huh. "Lovers" Arcana? The Hell did _that_ mean? Was he supposed to _bang_ some random reporter who was trying to sneak in? Who the Hell was she?

He hefted the bag of Topsicles and headed to drop them off. He'd talk to the CO... _after_ he did some research on Tarot cards. He was in way over his head.

* * *

><p><strong>-2013-<strong>

Junpei Iori sat on a bench outside of Port Island Station, while a woman sketched quietly next to him.

A two-edged miracle had brought her back into his life. The most tragic sort of hope. His hands worked the brim of his cap as he waited for something to reach her. The Abyss of Time had been only a few years previous. He'd seen Yukari collapse to the floor and beg to see Minato Arisato one more time, and some part of him had died. Because he'd gotten his wish, and it was all the harder.

"How's it going over there?" He glanced over at the woman, whose long red hair now covered a plain blouse and slacks that didn't look right on her at all.

"Fine." Chidori just kept shading with her colored pencil, and he reached his hand into his jacket.

"Good, good. That's good. Um. I was wondering, y'know, if you don't mind... I've got some pictures, here. Photos. Not great pictures like you make."

She sighed. "I will not remember them, Junpei."

"That's okay! It's totally okay. I just wanted to show them to you." And he held them out to her.

She hardly glanced at each one before moving on to the next. They were well-shot; Minato had not been the best photographer in his school club, but he had an eye that Junpei had envied (like he'd envied everything else). He used to wonder, if he'd had Minato's gift, if it had been something that he could impress Chidori with. But she didn't seem to care about the composition of the shots, just wanted to appease the strange boy who spent so much time with her so that he'd leave her to her sketchbook.

There were pictures of Yukari and Mitsuru in Kyoto, of Junpei and Fuuka in the park when they'd all played baseball. Akihiko and Shinjiro wrestling in the lounge. And less personal shots, too, just well-framed views of the shrine or of people walking in the mall. One of Junpei's old favorites had been the candid shot, taken from behind a planter, of Officer Kurosawa attempting to eat a giant sub sandwich.

She kept flipping through them, faster and faster, and then stopped.

"Wait."

Junpei looked over, and frowned. It was a picture of Shuji Ikutski, asleep on a couch in the dorm lounge. Minato had taken the picture because Junpei had drawn all over Ikutski's face in magic marker. Yukari could be seen off in one corner, laughing her head off. Not even Mitsuru had gotten mad at them over that one. He had forgotten all about it until that moment, when her finger tapped the sleeping Ikutski.

"Who is this?"

"Uh." Junpei wiped at his mouth. He hadn't wanted to push her that hard, would never have kept that photograph in the stack if he'd realized it had been in there. "Well..."

"He is a bad person, isn't he?" Barely stated as a question at all.

"He was, yeah." Junpei gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "He was. But he's gone, now."

"That's good. Yes." She handed him back the pictures. "...Thank you, Junpei." And she rested her head against his shoulder.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and closed his eyes, not wanting that moment to end.

Junpei thought about Yukari, and Aigis too, losing the one who had given their life meaning, and realized, that he could wait as long as it took. One day, she would remember the things that mattered. And until that day there dwelled within him a spring of life, a hope that she had given him and that would never go out.

* * *

><p>"I don't see you as much as I would have thought." Maya stabbed at her salad with a fork.<p>

"Oh... I'm sorry." Ken was futzing with the napkin dispenser at his table. He was thinking about the evoker that he'd left on the other side of the Pacific. There had been just no way to sneak it aboard the flight. And now he was in America, with no way of summoning his Persona. "I just want to keep up with my studies... now that we're going to be here for longer."

"Ken, you know I would have sent you back in a flash." Maya frowned. "I can investigate this thing for the rest of my life, if I want to, but you _have_ a life that you need to get back to."

Yes, of course he does. A Kirijo-paid apartment, a Kirijo-paid scholarship, his only friends a bunch of veterans who have trouble talking about anything but their secret, private war when they meet under the same roof? Junpei had offered to take him in, without even asking Chidori, he was so passionate about it; but as grateful as Ken had been at the offer to be out from under Mitsuru's thumb, he knew that the real problem would exist no matter what roof he slept under—this, Personas, this was all he knew, and all his life would ever have room for.

And now it was happening again, and he had to stay on the sidelines.

He wondered if there was any way he could explain all of that to Maya, and make her understand it.

It was his third month in town when the Kirijo Foundation opened a branch in town.

* * *

><p>Yosuke flopped over, an English dictionary covering his face. Ken, who was sitting on the man's bed, waited patiently.<p>

"Hey, Ken... you ever feel like your best days are behind you?"

Ken looked at him, and considered Shirogane's notes. _Hanamura, despite his attitude, should be considered a second-level threat, following closely behind Seta and Tatsumi. He appears to be a driving force behind the group's activities, perhaps more obsessed even than Seta—a relation to one of the victims? While Hanamura may not be the smartest member, and he is decidedly immature, he is likely to be incredibly dangerous if provoked._

"I dunno..." Yosuke didn't lift the book, just reached out with both hands as though there was something beyond the ceiling that he could grasp. "I feel sometimes like... I don't know why I'm saying this to _you_, but..."

One day, a short while later, Anna Tracer came up to him out of the blue, and asked him if they could hang out after school.

* * *

><p><strong>-2001-<strong>

In the heat of the moment, Maya wasn't sure who said "You know what to do," but they were right: she did. As the repellant producer Ginji Sasaki screamed, she spun the dual pink pistols around her fingers and fired.

For an instant, the meeting room of Smile Mall was a constellation of glass shards; Maya covered her face, and Ulala turned to shout something in her direction. But in the next instant, they had all realized their mistake. The collected protoplasmic _Kegare_ washed over Sasaki, and as it sprayed in all directions the wind went out of Maya and she hit the ground: Katsuya was tackling her out of the way, shielding her with his body.

The pools of _Kegare_ (defilement, _tsumi_, the stuff of pure _Magatsuhi_) were still moving, even upon landing. Nanjou was shouting something about the Science Lab – Maya remembered the tubes of _Kegare_ there, their eerie pinkish glow, the splashes that looked like reaching hands – and Eriko was drawing her sword.

The dark puddles at their feet that looked like shadows, they began to solidify, like gelatin, and it was then that Maya saw Sasaki's grinning Joker face. She aimed her pistols, but the shadows – the demons – were already rising up in a wave to protect him.

"Shoggoths," she heard someone (Baofu? Nanjou?) say, and the battle was on.

Maya still dreamed about the unnatural way that those shoggoths – those Shadows – had moved, so very like the thing that had awaited them at the end of their trip into the collective unconscious, and even years later, an ocean away, she'd occasionally start in bed, clutch the sheets to her chest, and wonder if it had been _her_ who had made the Innocent Sin.

* * *

><p>Igor looked up as the door all but slammed open, and a high school girl on the verge of tears pointed a finger at him. "You! You never told me it would be this hard!"<p>

..,At least, that's how it went in the fantasy, which seemed to come up more and more often these days. Instead, Anna was doing chores at home, matching socks in front of the television. The local news was becoming all but useless. None of their reports made logical sense anymore, and they seemed to know it.

Her mother was in the kitchen, and Anna could hear pans and dishes being slapped around with too much force. She was, Anna figured, talking to her lawyer. Her little brother, sprawled out on the floor in front of her with Featherman action figures (seemed like all kids were into nowadays was stuff from Japan), looked up at her with a worried expression. Anna shook her head. It seemed like the only times that she could try to make his bond work was when Mom wasn't around.

Jeff had complained about his parents today, when they were all hanging out, recovering from the midterms. She'd given him a Mudoon-strength glare, but of course Jeff only saw things in black and white, and so he was completely invulnerable to her instant death looks.

She pitched a pair of socks back into the basket and flopped back onto the couch. They would have to go back into the rift tomorrow, and she figured maybe Jeff could use some time on the bench.

* * *

><p>It wasn't that John was stupid, or uneducated—far from it, really. It was just that he'd always inclined towards the maths and sciences; he was interested in what he felt had practical use, even if it wasn't practical for him that day. The liberal arts, that had always been a bit of wankery to him. Effete.<p>

And so when he realized that he needed to learn (and quickly) about Jung, about the Tarot, and as much on mythology as he could stomach, he wasn't entirely sure where to start. The internet was okay, at first, but he felt like he was skimming stones across the surface of a lake without ever diving in. So, old-fashioned as he admittedly was, it didn't take long before he figured a library was the best bet. There was actually a small one on the base—they tried to be self-contained—but it was beyond useless. The public library in Threecorn, then, was his next stop—but it seemed like every book on the subjects that he needed was either checked out or just plain missing.

Which is why Sergeant John Stone found himself arranging dispensation to prowl the half-height stacks of the local _high school_ library. He tried not to meet the eyes of the students as he moved from aisle to aisle, distinctly uncomfortable. It was pouring rain outside, and apparently half the student body had decided to take refuge in the library after school; only half of them appeared to be studying, and more than once John bumped into a young couple who had slipped into a corner to make out. That wasn't how _he_ remembered high school.

Arms overflowing with books, he moved to the rear of the library, where there was a "project room" for student group work. There appeared to be a collection of kids in there, talking animatedly, but there were a few open chairs just outside that he could maybe use...

It happened when he was about ten feet from the kids on the other side of the door. Something exploded behind his eyes, and the books clattered to the floor as he clutched his temples. Through the red haze in his vision, he could see one single girl in the school group doing the same, and their eyes locked for only a moment before Stone turned around, gathered up as many books as he could, and made a tactical retreat.

Both of them, as the pain lessened and a semblance of clarity restored, understood the same thing. One of Igor's vague statements now made sense.

There were two "Fools," two holders of the Wild Card... and they could not approach each other without endangering both of their lives.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

One night when Ken was eleven years old, he stepped out onto the roof of the dorm building, to find that he wasn't alone.

Koromaru didn't get up from where he was lying peacefully, but he did offer a wave of his tail in greetings. The boy sitting on the edge of the roof, however, inclined his head and called back to him.

"Hey, Ken-kun. I was hoping it was you."

"Me?" He approached Minato slowly. The older boy was the only one whom Ken couldn't figure out. The girls were patronizing, but well-intentioned, and the boys were... well, Sanada-san and Shinjiro-san knew the truth, and Junpei was nice, but tended to leave him alone. Minato Arisato, though, their leader, seemed to look at Ken in a different way every time they spoke. It was a little unnerving, and he wondered what Yukari saw in him (she didn't think he knew, but he wasn't stupid, just young).

"Yeah, you. C'mere." He waved Ken over. "Come sit with me." Ken looked uneasily at the lip of the roof, where Minato's legs dangled. It was a four-story drop. "Would you believe I hate heights? I know, that's stupid. All we do every night is climb a tower into, like, space, or wherever. I try not to look out the windows."

Ken carefully sat on the edge, but facing in the opposite direction, so that his feet were still planted. "I didn't think you were afraid of anything."

"Oh, I've got courage to spare," Minato drawled, and placed a hand on Ken's shoulder. "But that just means I'm dumb enough to do what Mitsuru tells me." He chuckled. "Hey, let me ask you something. It's personal, though, is that okay?"

"Um, sure, okay." He liked Minato's laugh—it was the way he laughed with Junpei, at grown-up jokes.

"You stayed at an orphanage, right? After... you know, your mom?" Ken winced, but nodded. He would prove he could be grown-up enough to have this conversation. And he wouldn't talk about Shinjiro, because he knew Minato would try to stop him. "Was it the same one that they stayed in? You know, earlier?"

Ken glanced at the door to the stairs. The thought had never occurred to him before. "I... I don't know. I'm not sure which one was theirs. I guess it could have been." That was a disturbing thought.

"I want to tell you a secret, Ken-kun." Minato was looking out at the view from their building. It wasn't an especially tall one, but you could still get a nice view of the Moonlight Bridge, when the sky was clear. "Just you." When Ken turned to him, he smiled, his eyes hidden beneath his long bangs. "I think I stayed there, too."

"Really?" Ken gaped.

"I'm don't really remember, but..." Minato lifted his hair out of his eyes, for just a moment. "When I think about things, from a long time ago, I get these headaches. So I try not to. But, it's possible... I mean, I'm here now, and I know I spent some time, you know, without a family..." He smiled weakly. "You know, Yukari and I fought my first Shadow here, on this roof. When I first came here."

"It came all the way to the dorm?" Ken found Koro-chan's head in his lap, and scratched behind his ears.

"Yeah." Minato let his hair fall again, and wiped at his mouth. "I think I scared Yukari a lot, that night. She doesn't like to talk about it."

Ken didn't know what to say. He didn't understand why he was the one being told these things at all.

"I think something bad is going to happen, Ken." Minato shook his head. "I don't know what it will be. I go to this fortune teller sometimes, at Club Escapade, and..." He shrugged. "I don't know. I have to assume it will be that I screw things up, because I'm in charge." He looked at Ken. "I'm telling you, because the others will ask me questions, and I can't answer them." Minato placed his hand on Ken's head, but didn't tousle his hair the way that the others did. "I know that you have questions that you don't want to answer, either."

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"I think we should make our HQ a little more mobile, if you follow me." Anna sloshed the ice in her cup around with her straw, and looked out over the parking lot. The Junes rooftop food court wasn't too crowded this early in the day, but there were still waves of housewives and college kids going in and out of the front doors below.

"You want to talk about what happened back there in the library, I'm open." Jeff sniffed at his hot dog. "Ugh. I swear, they're making these things from Shadow meat."

"That's gross." She kicked his shin under the table. "I don't know enough to tell you. I just... I don't think we're alone. In a good way. But I don't think we can rely on whoever it is."

"That's more confusing than if you hadn't said anything." He sighed and took a bite, then winced. After a couple of laborious chews, he looked up at her again. "We're doing okay, though. The team's finally balanced out, elementally-speaking."

"Yeah..." Anna pushed her tray to the center of the table and crossed her arms. "You've got the light and dark covered, Allison has lightning skills, Ricky's wind, Tori can do fire stuff, and now Aaron can fill in on ice. And that much is terrific, because you can't count me as ice anymore, like you did in the beginning, since I have to keep switching up."

"Which is another set of questions that I know you're not going to answer." Jeff had clearly given up on his hot dog. He dumped the meat on his plate and tossed the roll over the rail, where pigeons were attacking it before it had even landed on the parking lot below. His attitude had gotten worse, lately, and they both knew it. And both knew _why_.

It seemed like every time Anna and Jeff moved a step forward in their relationship, Anna was presented with a series of snare-traps, some of which would lock her into a friendship, and some of which would officially push the needle over into actually _dating_, and she wasn't sure how it had happened. Frequently it seemed like he'd take the opposite meaning of whatever she'd said, and whenever she tried to dodge the issue, she'd alienate him all over again.

Why should she have to decide this, and decide it _now_? There was too much at stake. And yet... if the world were to end tomorrow... would she want to face it alone?

She and her mother used to laugh at those action movies that her father would bring home, where the couple would hook up while the building was under siege by terrorists or whatever. Sure, she could imagine the excitement that would cause, the heightened passions, blah blah blah... but what about after? What did those couple have in common, when the danger was over?

She looked at Jeff sometimes, and wondered if, when all of this Shadow-fighting was over... Hell, when she had "solved" his problems interacting with his classmates... would he even have a use for her anymore as a _friend_? What good would trying a romance be? But then, they'd be in the world on the other side, and a Shadow's claws would reach for her, and he'd bolt forward to shove her aside and take the pain for himself, and she'd remember what a kind, gentle boy was hiding beneath the snotty exterior.

And she'd get confused all over again.

* * *

><p>They kept breaking all the rules. That was the part that confused John the most. John had been in the service for a long time, and the rules were what the army <em>was<em>. That's how you kept men sane when they were marched off to die, beat 'em down with rules until those rules were instinct. Once John had understood the system, it had seemed practical. And that was John; pragmatic education, pragmatic lifestyle.

But now, jammed into a situation where they were fighting goddamned space aliens with magic powers, and the rules would be a comforting normalcy, they kept pulling that rug right back out.

Tonight, it was the officer's club being open to enlisted men. Sure, whatever. The town didn't have a decent bar from end to end, and John didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. So he slipped into a booth in the far corner, lit up a cigarette, and tried not to go mad. Which side of the rift was supposed to be Bizarro World again?

If they were going to keep making excuses for him, they might as well promote his ass. At least then he'd get a slight pay hike. Lord knows keeping the team stocked up on over-the-counter meds wasn't coming out of Uncle Sam's pocket.

Matthew appears out of nowhere, and he slides in across from John with a grin. "Well, don't this beat all?"

John's throat rumbled, moving phlegm from one place to another without really getting rid of it. "Sometimes I think this whole thing is some psych test. Like when they used to dope up pilots on LSD."

"I wish." Matthew was holding a too-big tumbler of something that would likely leave him unusable on the mission run the next day. "I think a good trip might calm me down at this point."

"I don't need to hear that." John rubbed at his eyes, the butt of the cigarette tapping against his forehead.

"Who's going in tomorrow?" Matthew waggled his eyebrows as he finished off half the tumbler in one long set of gulps.

John wasn't going to dignify that look. "Ramirez needs a turn back up at bat, so I can't bring in Stonewater, their weaknesses match. Which means we're hurting in the de-facto medic selection..."

Matthew placed the empty tumbler on the table and sighed. "Hey, Sarge... can I ask you, like, a personal question?" John stubbed out his cigarette and lit another immediately. Dealing with his erstwhile second and almost-partner almost always led to chain-smoking. "It's about women."

John let a solid half-minute pass and then said, "Well, now _I'm_ going to start drinking."

* * *

><p>Ken had to flip himself over a bench in the lobby and hide behind it, when Yosuke Hamamura entered the Kirijo Foundation building. He listened as the young man with the headphones tried in vain to get the receptionist to explain what, exactly it was that the Foundation <em>did<em>. Yosuke tried humor, and then charm, and neither worked; then he tried rage, and threats, and that didn't work either. He pitied the Junes manager, who slammed the glass door hard as he stormed out.

When he was gone, Ken almost came out of hiding before he saw that the man had been replaced by Maya. She tried things in almost the same order, though when she failed, she offered a false smile and walked out calmly.

Later, Ken was sitting on a desk in the school newspaper's tiny room as Anna Tracer tried to solve his problems. She knew the right things to say, but she wasn't getting anywhere. Probably, most of the people who formed bonds with her didn't lie to her each step of the way.

"Let me ask you something." Ken slid off the desk. "Would you die for your friends, if you had to?"

Anna tensed. "Of course! But... why would you ask that?"

"This is bigger than you think it is. I want to help you."

They said, the students did, that in America, all you needed was a dream and the will to achieve it. He'd asked what made that different from Japan, or anywhere, but they'd insisted. The American Dream, they'd called it. He'd thought it was funny, at first, and then a little irritating. But every Persona incident was different, and rumors and myths and ideas always held more power when the Shadows came. It was clear that whatever was beyond the rift, it was testing the identities of groups, this time, and that included national ideas, national myths and identities. If America believed itself to be its own myth-maker and wish-granter, then within the boundaries of Threecorn, Indiana, that belief had a power.

Ken saw the hesitation in Anna's eyes, the one that Minato used to have whenever he tried to figure out the precise thing to say. "I don't even know you."

Ken thought of Minato welcoming Ryoji into their home. "You don't have to know me. There isn't much to know. Just let me fight beside you."

And then: "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ken nodded slowly, and walked out. He never gave her the folder, and he never saw Anna's reaction to the shattering sound in her ears as the Justice Social Link reversed.

* * *

><p>Dad makes the same joke every week. "How about we go to the zoo?"<p>

"This town doesn't have a zoo, Dad." And so they go somewhere normal instead, like Junes or the diner. The weekly visits are becoming routine, now, and that scares her a little, because it means the situation is beginning to feel like normal.

Anna hugged her arms as she and her father walked down the street. She wanted to believe that if she said just the right things, played the social link just the right way, the Emperor and Empress would get back together in the end. Somehow, though, she knew that not even the messed up rules that she'd been contractually obligated to follow would make things that simple.

"Something on your mind, Sport?" Her father looked skinnier than he ever had. She wondered if he was eating well; Mom had always done the cooking.

Oh, what the Hell, nobody else was going to ask her. She couldn't express it louder than a mumble, but it still came out. "Boy trouble."

"Oh yeah?" And he got all tense, and his fists clenched a little, and that part was so stereotypical that it sort of cheered her up, a little bit.

"Not like that, Dad, it's okay." She kicked at a loose chunk of asphalt, and watched it spiral towards the gutter. "I'm just... we can't figure out... I dunno... what we want from each other, I guess." She held up her hands at his stricken expression. "Not like _that_! God! I'm serious! He's..." Her shoulders slumped. "You'd probably like him, actually."

He stopped walking, rubbed at his scalp as he looked her over. "Anna... if you like this boy? I mean, if you think you might like him more than a couple of dates worth? Make sure he's someone... I don't know how to put this." He seemed small in his big heavy coat. "Have him meet your mother. If she thinks he's good for you, then you'll know it's not going to work." He started walking again, and it took Anna a moment to realize what her father was admitting to.

* * *

><p>Maya had taken John to dinner in town; the whole thing had made him nervous, until he'd realized that she wasn't especially interested in him—at least, not romantically. She <em>was<em> full of questions about base operations, and about the "thing out in the cornfield," though she was careful not to outline how much of anything she actually knew.

Apparently enough of his evasions carried charm that, when she finally settled down, the small talk was downright pleasant. "Seriously, though," she was saying, and she was doing a better job keeping that accent down all the time, "You seem like a man with a lot on his mind."

That was one of those statements where you were supposed to laugh ironically. John just held up his drink in salute to her remark, and said nothing.

"Is it hard, living on the base? Do you make friends, or is it all..." She struggled for the word. "...Comrades?"

John absent-mindedly cracked a knuckle, then one more. "Nah, my unit is very tight. It wasn't always that way, but being in strange situations brings you together, I guess."

He offered, ever-so-briefly, an unguarded smile. The boys had staged an impromptu birthday surprise for him—Matthew's doing, apparently. And the young Corporal had pulled him aside in the middle, to offer him a personal thank you. They both knew why. When John had finally prodded Matthew to cut the crap and propose to his girl, the courage and the clarity had awakened a new Persona within him. It was tangible evidence that they both could see, that their relationships and their strength in combat were related, beyond even the trust of fellow soldiers. It was awe-inspiring, and terrifying.

And so he asked the waitress for a coffee, sat up a bit straighter, and ran a hand through his buzzcut. "How about you, Miss Amano-san? How are _you_? You seem like someone with a lot going on."

* * *

><p><em>The door to the dormitory finally swung open. The Abyss of Time had dissolved. They were free.<em>

_Ken practically leaped down the stairs, to take in the sun._

_Everyone was saying their awkward good-byes, and soon Mitsuru and Fuuka and Junpei had left, Junpei taking Koromaru with him. And there was that long silence, before Shinjiro offered Aigis his hand._

"_Shinjiro-san..." As Aigis was shaking it firmly... "You do not have another place to stay." Spoken as a fact, not asked as a question. Yukari had offered to take Aigis in, and Ken could see Yukari's panic at the suggestion that Aigis was about to bring the glowering man in the topcoat with her._

"_We'll figure it out." Shinjiro placed a gentle hand on Ken's shoulder, and Ken's eyes widened._

_And then the girls had left, and there were only three confused young men, looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say._

* * *

><p>"You've been too reckless with your support for the American government and military." Nanjou sniffed. "And I don't like your hands-off approach with the boy."<p>

"You don't know Amada like I do." Mitsuru picked up the glass of wine which she'd left half-finished. "The less he knows, and the more he believes he's operating against me, the more likely he'll be to stay within the parameters we've set."

"He sounds like a liability, when you phrase it in those terms."

Mitsuru shook her head. "No, Ken was, is, the greatest and most pure of all of us." She looked out at the skyline. "Save one, who's no longer with us."

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

_...Leave this valid memory  
>The spirit inside of consciousness<br>And this lone prayer_

_Keep life on the coat rack..._  
><em>The hate-craved fools just don't stop<em>  
><em>As you clear away from death,<em>  
><em>The world is all I've sent you...<em>

One day, when Ken Amada was eleven years old, he approached Junpei Iori and asked him to teach him baseball.

The older boy fumbled with his magazine and looked up, incredulous. "Me? Why me?" But he was smiling, too, delighted in a way that Ken hadn't predicted. And so they'd gone out to the quiet street just outside their dormitory, and Junpei had shown Ken how to stand, how to hold his bat. It was hard only for Ken to remember not to hold it as he did his spear.

After a while, Ken glanced at the dorm and saw Minato sitting on the steps, his eyes shining as the other two boys played. It had been he who'd suggested that Ken go to Junpei with the idea, and he'd been right, he'd never seen Junpei so earnest.

"Well, look at this." Behind Minato, some of the others had come out to see what had caused the commotion. "Junpei, you can't teach him how to play unless he has someone to play against." Akhiko was smiling, and came down the stairs.

"I'll have you know, I was a softball _star_ back in middle school." Yukari skipped right down behind her Senpai, and Junpei shook his fist at her.

"Softball ain't baseball!"

"Close enough for how _you_ play, Stupei!" She caught the ball Ken had tossed her, and soon a poorly-staffed game had broken out in the middle of the street. Ken laughed as Fuuka struggled with the cap that Junpei had shoved onto her head, and Yukari tried to explain the rules to Aigis. Mitsuru and Shinjiro stood watching behind Minato, and at least Mitsuru was smiling.

When Ikutski dropped by on his bicycle, they forced him to play catcher. Koro-chan was kept busy fetching stray balls and gnawing at the chain of sausages that Shinjiro had snuck out to him.

When some of Minato's classmates walked by, though, even he had to come off the stairs, and the action was pushed to a nearby park. Kazushi was pressed into pitcher, so he'd go easier on his leg, and Kenji, Keisuke, and Yuko split amongst the two teams. Yukari dragged Mitsuru onto the field by one arm, and Junpei thrust a bat into her hands.

It was one of the nicest days that Ken would ever have. But sometimes all he could remember was the way Shinjiro prowled the edges, leaned against fences, and growled at the people who tried to get him to participate. He always had one eye on Ken, and Ken one eye on him. October was close, so very close, and they both knew what was coming.

When it was over, he told himself, it would fix everything. Make everything right again. But then he would look out to the field, and see everyone laughing as Aigis slid so hard that she drove a groove into the ground, and Fuuka and Keisuke futzing over their camera so that they could get everyone in the shot, and Minato smiling as Yukari and Junpei saw a side of each other that neither had expected; and he prayed for October to never come.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

The school administration had been up and down on Anna's class of students; the Thanksgiving Day Game had been a disaster (hard to explain that it had been a loose Shadow), but the Winter Concert had gone off without a hitch. And so there was an unspoken understanding that the fate of prom night depended on how the students behaved on the field trip over to the base.

But none of that seemed to matter to Anna Tracer, because she had been having the best week ever. First she'd scored the sale of a lifetime on that crazy new home shopping program; then the note had arrived in her mailbox, telling her that the mysterious Sergeant John Stone would not be on the base during the field trip, leaving her free to enjoy it with her friends—and maybe find a few things out on the sly; and then, last night, the unthinkable, the unrepeatable, the moment of dread and hope and it had been so unexpectedly perfect.

Jeff didn't usually want to meet at night, and so her suspicions had been raised already. But she'd snuck out, anyway—too many trips out to the cornfield had left her seriously grounded—and they'd gone for a long drive around town in Jeff's battered old car, and he'd finally said it. And there was no doubt that he meant it—not with a new Persona forming before her eyes. And so when he'd found a secluded place to park, and maybe things had gone a little fast, she didn't have the slightest hesitation, and she still hadn't the slightest regret.

And now, as the students gathered in clusters within the base's perimeter, he found her and casually nudged her with an elbow. "Wanna go snooping?"

"What, with you?" And she winked at him, and he laughed, and for that moment it didn't seem to matter that the world might well be ending.

* * *

><p>"<em>Shinji..." Akihiko shook his head.<em>

_Shinjiro shrugged. "Just shut up, and let's go."_

"_Huh?" The young man with the silver hair cocked his head._

"_We're staying at your place, 'till we figure it out. I'll make dinner, and Ken will clean up." He glanced at Ken, and though he wasn't smiling, Ken saw something funny around Shinji's eyes. "He's always carrying that scrub brush around anyway, right?"_

"_Um, sure!" Ken jammed his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt._

"_All right." Akihiko was smiling._

"_Though... I'd like to stop by the cemetery first." Shinjiro took off his heavy coat, and rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck. "Got some things I wanna say to her."_

"_Yeah... me too." Akihiko stepped in line with Ken, and with his brother in all but blood, and they walked down the quiet street together._

_Ken thought about the doors they had looked through, one after another. "Do you think... Do you think there's a world, where she didn't have to do it? A world where she could be happy?"_

_Akihiko nodded. "I see it sometimes... when I close my eyes."_

_Shinjiro said nothing, just placed a hand on each of their shoulders and shoved them, playfully, and the three of them watched the sun rise over Iwatodai._

_Sometimes they had to look away and try to ignore the way Shinjiro coughed._

* * *

><p>Things wouldn't go so well all down the line.<p>

Anna would be betrayed by a member of her team, and John would suffer the loss of a squadmate. And her beloved little brother would, of course, be taken, to use as a pawn—finally thrown into the rift.

Sergeant John Stone would suddenly and without warning lose the backing of his military superiors, and his team would be forced to choose between going rogue or letting the rift further expand.

And in the end, when the final moves were made, and John and Anna and their collective teammates would have to enter the rift, and would not return.

While they were absent, the undefended town would become overrun with Shadows.

But they wouldn't be alone.

Maya was standing in the town square, outside of the Kirijo Foundation building, when the Turret shadow began to roll down Main Street. The giant tank huffed like a fairy tale wolf and trained its barrel on her to fire.

She was thrown clear by a charging Yosuke Hanamura, and they both smashed through the Foundation's glass doors. They rose to their feet as one, and though each didn't know what the other possessed, their call for "Persona!" spoke as one.

In the recent years, of course, much of the population at each Shadow outbreak had offered little resistance; in places like the Japanese Iwatodai and Inaba incidents, people were reduced to shuffling cattle, infected with Apathy or with the Fog of Untruths, a sort of Willful ignorance that led to an ease of harvesting.

It hadn't always been thus. There had been times when the people would resist. And this time, they would again.

Susano-O and Artemis were warriors, and so were the man and woman who held aspects of them within themselves.

They offered each other a surprised little smile, and stepped forward, toward the Shadow.

* * *

><p>The rift in the cornfield rippled and beckoned, and Ken reached out his hand. There was another world, the world of his dreams, and it wasn't so different. Was that the world that lay beyond?<p>

He couldn't help the Wild Cards, and he couldn't help his friends. But maybe, in another world, a world where he could have stood beside the man who saved him, there was a chance for him to make things right.

Turning his back on the havoc that had come to Threecorn, Indiana, he stepped out of the world.

Freedom was having nothing left to lose, and in a world of rumors, outside of the flow of time, his hand might find the hand of the girl who'd haunted his dreams. He would find a way to carry her home.

"All right," he said, "let's do this."


	5. Author's Notes, P to 3

**Author's Notes:**

Before we get into the specifics: why remake the original pieces? For a few reasons.

The biggest and most obvious reason was that I got some things _wrong_ - about the timeline, and more than that, about some of the characters that I didn't know as well. The exact circumstances of Reiji's marriage, for instance, I completely dropped the ball on (I _wondered_ why user EmmyChao was so mad at me!), and also the details behind the Kuzunoha timeline split. You spend a lot of time doing research to get things right, and then _whoops_! Better to go in and fix what I did before it got any worse. Thankfully nothing was irreversible!

Also, because it's easier at this stage to tell the story as a single, lengthy unit. I'm proud of most of my work on the earlier "After the End" pieces, but that format was going to drag on through some of the middle Arcana before approaching Universe, which was long enough to be an epic on its own. The extreme delays on "Aeon/Judgment" back when the old stories were updating was a testament to that. Originally, it was only going to be the first two stories! Response was so positive that I built a longer epic out of them - reworking things in this order allows a bit more foreshadowing (Katsuya showing up in the Chie bits and so on).

We'll be burning through the old material really fast at this pace, and I hope to introduce more new bits (like the prologue!) soon.

The $64,000 question, though, is will the story finish this time? I can't promise anything. I left to focus on writing outside of fandom, and that project actually _has_ met with some positive movement. It's still my primary focus. But I felt bad about leaving it hanging, I still love these characters, and Hell, we've been playing a lot of Persona 2 in the house these days and it's been a real rejuvenating factor. Let's all cross our fingers, and not hate me too much if it doesn't happen, okay?

**Okay, boring crap over, notes follow:  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Prologue:<em>

-The chronology was worked out carefully, based on things like the canon years of P3 & P4, the ages offered on Trish's Who's Who, and some vaguely defined uses of things like "five years ago" or "ten years ago." I believe this is about as good as you're going to get it, but nothing lines up quite perfectly. I'm open to criticism on this front, but I'd leave the reminder that not everything is perfect – the games are designed to be connected, but it's clear that not every month and day used was designed to line up with every one in other games. That's just not what MegaTen is about – the links have always been more thematic than literal, which is why the Amala Network was created to provide a multiversal excuse where necessary. I'm reminded of Phoenix Wright, where everyone's ages (and many of the case dates) are exact, but still create a crisis of chronology when examined too closely.

-Dr. Nicholai was the DVA scientist in the first _Persona_; it'd be easy to judge Kirijo the Elder here as the villain who caused all of the problems, for every game, but as always, morality and intention are ambiguous in MegaTen. And everyone is always a playing piece in some higher power's game.

-The term "Avidya" was of course used in the first Persona game, but its connection to the term "Maya" was not. You may see the connection as we go on.

-Call it my own bias, but I don't think that any human could catch Tamaki if she didn't want to be found. That said, why would Kirijo risk kidnapping a teenager when he has a viable subject more easily obtainable?

-The explication of Gouto's sin (about which more later, obviously) is obviously my own invention. My reasoning will be clearer later on, hopefully, but if you're worried about the chronology, I have an out: There were 14 known Kuzunohas in the Raidou line over 1200 years, but it's not clear how old any given one of them were. Some may have died very quickly, in service to Yatagarasu. Some may have had the blessing/curse of extended aging. This is certainly suggested by the math! It's my belief that Raidou the First, who was known to be a magician, lived a very long time – similarly, it's my belief that Raidou XIV lived an above-average but not impossible number of years, as will be established later on.

-My method of jumping around chronologically sometimes feels arbitrary to readers, and I won't attempt to dissuade them of that; however, generally my purpose is thematic. For instance, the reason I focused on Baofu's awakening in the prologue was as a re-introduction to the concept of "Persona" - as if this were a novel for a newcomer (which, of course, it obviously is not). In dealing with all of the series, it's good to begin on firm ground. Hence also the focus on the 1999 Incident, which is the focal point of the _Persona_ game that has the largest audience. Some would argue that this is primarily a P3/P4 story anyway.

-Dr. Kimijima first appeared in _Aegis: The First _Mission, the Japan-only cellphone game. Komatsubara suggests _Persona: Trinity Soul_, but I haven't seen all of it and will only reference it obliquely (I'm given leeway, as Atlus has declared it non-canonical, but given that you'll briefly see characters from _Catherine_, obviously that won't stop me). General Sugawara was not a great man, but it's implied that he was seduced into the NWO after his illness – I don't think Kurosawa gets implicated unfairly here.

-The incident involving Raidou XIV here comes from Devil Summoner 3 – that is, _Raidou vs. The Soulless Army_. This is generally agreed upon as the incident where the _Persona_ timeline began. It is interesting, then, that this timeline split is (sort of) caused by an artifact that draws on the power of, essentially, "social links."

-"Brightly colored button" is the kind of joke that only I laugh at – it's (obviously?) a reference to the decision on whether or not to spare Nicholai in the first _Persona_ game.

-The hinting that General Sugawara is some sort of descendant of General Munakata is a little silly and unnecessary, but lineages, fateful coincidences, and repeating history is important in this story. It doesn't break anything, anyway. Sukunu-Hikona (Raidou's opponent, and the basis for Naoto's initial Persona) being drawn in response to man's darkness sets a precedent that recurs throughout the Persona timeline – really, through all MegaTen timelines.

-In the case of characters like Jouhei or Minato, I use fan-accepted semi-canon names where appropriate. I'll be using Souji's name for the _Persona 4_ protagonist, though, and I've gone with Hamuko for the _Persona 3_ heroine. Hopefully this isn't confusing, and doesn't lead to much conflict.

-Yes, that was a tip of the hat to the brilliant and infamous Let's Play of _Persona 3_.

-Ideo Hazama is the antagonist of _Shin Megami Tensei: If..._ - the first-released game in the _Persona_ timeline and the one who, like Akemi Nakajima in the original _Digital Devil Story_, was an abused student who started all the balls rolling by stupidly summoning demons without thinking it through. Akemi had a supposedly "brilliant" mind, however, and Ideo did not. How did he get it to work right?

-"Chunky" isn't really the best adjective to use in that sentence, but the in-joke is obvious.

-Reminder: All scenes that took place on screen in the original games are directly and specifically quoted verbatim whenever humanly possible, unless otherwise stated here in the notes.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 1:<em>

-This excerpt concerning Margaret was intended for the perennially delayed "Aeon/Judgment" story in the original "After the End" series. Part of reworking these into a single narrative means that I can interweave things better without expecting the chapters to stand alone. Hopefully this will also make the story an interesting read for people who encountered the originals, given the new context. Think of it as the "director's cut."

-The Velvet Room didn't really change much to match its occupants until Igor acquired the Siblings. This may be because _Persona_ 1 and 2 collected essentially wound up telling one large story. Its (intentional) similarity to the Black Lodge from _Twin Peaks_ in those games may well have imported thematic meaning in the same way the elevator and the limousine did in the later titles. The train car, naturally, has its own import.

-Akihiko stepped in as police chief in _Persona: Trinity Soul_, but as A) that's not offically canonical and B) he and his compatriot (Ken under an assumed name? A popular theory) may have been operating with Mitsuru's support, do we know his official rank? Being a fellow officer makes for a better story here – the mention of Ayanagi City is a throw-in.

-Why is this story now chapter one? To start more simply, and to establish the theme that just because things are over, that doesn't mean that people's problems are magically fixed forever. Life doesn't work that way – people have to move on, people occasionally backslide, and that does not invalidate their character development in the slightest.

-That Chie identifies as "Chie" when out of uniform and "Officer Satonaka" when in it – until she doesn't – wasn't something that I think many people picked up on the first time through, but I thought it fit her character at the time.

-Trying to fit in every character can drive you (which is to say, _me_) crazy, but getting in cameo mentions like Shu's here is still fun.

-I don't think that they ever call the Inaba murders "The Hanged Man Killings" in the game, but the Tarot connection is so obvious that I couldn't help using the term for it. It fits the media exploitation themes in _Persona 4_ anyway.

-Most of the Suou brother stuff was added in for this "Remix" edition of the story, so that it fits in better with the later pieces. It was my intention from the beginning to have them all serve in the same area, but it was only in this combined story where it fit to take some time for that aspect.

-That said, I really am a bit mean to Tatsuya, aren't I? In case you're wondering: Yes, I believe that Jun was Tatsuya's best match – what Tatsuya wanted wasn't romantic, but Chie doesn't know that.

-The Yosuke/Teddie sequence was also from the unfinished "Aeon/Judgment" story.

-Originally it said that Katsuya and Kurosawa "went through the academy together" - wasn't sure that fit the timeline, so it was easier to change it.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 2:<em>

-There is nothing more nerve-wracking than going in and messing with something that actually met with good reception. "The Eagle and The Butterfly" and "A Remembrance Carried on the Wind" were the only two ATE pieces to receive a heavily positive response. But they couldn't just be pasted in wholesale as they were. Hopefully you still enjoy them in the new format – the old ones still exist online, after all.

-By my estimate, this scene at the Alaya Shrine happens one year before the fire.

-People have been asking me since the stories first went up – what the Hell happened to Aigis? Hopefully we'll get there this time.

-Miki is seen as an infant because that's how Minato imagines her. How much is real, and how much isn't? Decide for yourself – there's no correct answer.

-Well, then: a moment to talk about fan theories... You'll notice that I use most of the prevailing fan theories – most of the time, I agree with them, but even when I don't, I find them interesting. One thing that I wanted to do was directly play off of expectatons. It's my hope that I at least provide these theories in a new and unexpected way.

-Nobody ever laughs at my "Atlus" joke. Too obvious, huh?

-What happens here between Minato, Philemon, and Hamuko? Is he given a glimpse of another timeline? Is he allowed to restart his own time? Did Hamuko exist before this? Hmmm... It's interesting to see that due to _P3P_, every one of the early _Persona_ games now has some form of alternate earth. What will _P4G_ bring?

-The scene between Souji and Rise at the river – most of it is drawn directly from the social link event, but obviously Souji didn't have much dialogue – allowing me to fudge the details, and put extra words in their mouths. Contrast this with, say, the scene at the bottom of the Abyss, which was directly quoted.

-Just in case it _wasn't_ clear? These would be the two members of the band who _aren't_ Lisa Silverman, obviously.

-The ending to these bits has been shifted to a later chapter to accommodate the "all one story" format here. I know people found the scene effective, but it's unfair as a chapter cliffhanger.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 3:<em>

-_Catherine_, of course, isn't actually a MegaTen title, not even by the spin-off definition that _Persona_ uses. But as anyone who's played the last night of the game knows, it easily _could_ have been. I count it as fair game here because of the _P3P_ cameo, but I've no illusions, either.

-So, speaking of that cameo: how can Vincent be telling teenagers in Iwatodai what his problems are, if they take place in a single week in America? You'll see that I've fudged some details in this bit to make it work, but I'd say it's a fair compromise, if not 100% "factual." In terms of a fictional story. You know how it is.

-Vincent doesn't know that Jonny and Orlando are dreaming until further into the week, but the dialogue on this day in the bar suggests that they're already dreaming.

-Given that the Taisho democracy lasted longer than planned, Japan's militaristic push would have come later or not at all, depending on your view of history. Raidou's timeline stayed out of WWII in this story.

-So, then... a note on original characters. There's a perception that original characters are inherently bad in fan fiction, and I understand why. There's a tendency to view using them as a claim that you can create better characters than the originals, and certainly many fanfic authors treat them that way even when they're not self-insertion pieces. But sometimes you just need extra pieces on the board for the story that you want to tell. I like Anna and John, but I don't think they're "better" or "more deserving of page time" then the characters you know. I just needed a fictional "Persona 5" to take place for the story that I wanted to tell. I set it in America because I wanted to play with the expectation of what a _Persona_ title in America would be like – and so using a traditional high school kid, and contrasting it against a sort of "space marine" character, would be a fun way to play with eastern vs. western RPG expectations. Characters from _Persona_ appeared in _Persona 2_, and that's how I tried to treat Maya, Ken, and Yosuke here, as cameos whom (in this story) we care more about than the "primary" cast. Just as _Persona 2_ can end with the cast of the original game taking the fight to the enemy, that's at least partially what's happening in this story – only it's the focus, rather than the background, because these are by nature the people we actually care about. I hope that you can find it in your heart to have some small fondness for Anna and John, though – they go through a lot, even if we don't see it all.

-I don't think my reasonings for the Hamuko version of "The Answer" or of Shinjiro's hypothetical ascended Persona require much explanation.

-That Ken looks young enough to pass for a high schooler at his age is my own invention, but believable, I think, given how we visualize him – don't worry, he's not still in short pants.

-The bit about Wild Card holders being unable to approach each other – hang with me, it will get explained as we go on.

-Just as the "Joker" in Innocent Sin seems to have created the first recorded instance of "Apathy Syndrome" in the _Persona_ games – arguably linking them to the zombies of the first _Persona_ and earlier MegaTen titles – one could make the case the creatures formed from collected Kegare found in the Science Lab in _Persona 2: Eternal Punishment_ are the first recorded instance of "Shadows" as we think of them – as random encounter creatures – in later games (Personal Shadows appeared earlier, of course). When Maya shattered the tanks at Smile Mall, then, that would be the first Shadow battle. The creatures were listed as "Shoggoths," demon servants of Nyarlathotep, in that game... if you look at what a Shoggoth is supposed to be, there's not a great deal of difference. Shoggoths in the _Persona_ titles are made of Kegare – are made, then, of _magatsuhi_ – and fit the description of Shadows as described in _Persona 3_ and _Persona 4_. The games didn't deviate as far from MegaTen roots as they might appear at first glance. More on this later! But consider: the sound an Evoker makes when fired is shattering glass; the weakest, initial form of Shadows are called "Mayas."

-Ken didn't abandon this world forever, and he's not being a coward. More later!


	6. Painting Outside the Lines

**-2021-**

Theodore had been perusing an older Compendium one moment, and the next he was somewhere else, with a strange painful sensation in his left ear.

He was, he realized, outside-actually _outside_, and it was without his master's permission! This was very bad. And the pain to his ear had not ceased. Still, it was, as near as he could tell, a beautiful day, with a shining sun (he saw it so rarely!) and there were birds and grass and trees and things to look at, so it didn't seem so bad.

Though, now that he thought about it, he seemed to be moving... oh! It was his own legs pushing him forward, that was reassuring, but why? And his ear really did hurt...

It occurred to him, finally, to consider looking in a different direction, and he realized that his eldest sister was dragging him by his ear.

"Margaret?"

Her face looked stern, that is, more stern than usual, which was bad news for Theo; and it meant that he probably would, in fact, be reprimanded for being outside the Velvet Room, in the world of men.

"Sister?"

She released him, and just stared for a moment, She was breathing heavily. Oh! Good for her. She was always so quick to look down upon Theodore and Elizabeth when they tried things like breathing heavily, or playing the spoons. He smiled at her.

"Theodore," she muttered, "please don't smile at me like that."

"Okay." He stopped. Perhaps she was embarrassed? Well, if there was one thing he understood (even if he wasn't going to admit to it), it was certainly being embarrassed.

"I don't have time for this," she sighed, and crossed her arms.

"Margaret, you seem perturbed."

"Yes. Yes, very good, Theo. I can see that your time outside has done wonders for your ability to read emotions."

He pouted. "That is cruel sarcasm, sister."

She was not happy to be outside, that must be it. He did not understand why—it was her idea to bring him here. And he liked being outside in the world of men. And women. And dogs. And fish. And trees and benches and cars and planes and blenders and high school and governments and...

Margaret was snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Theo!"

He fussed with his tie a bit. "Yes?"

Her mouth thinned. "As much as it galls me to admit this, Theodore, I need your assistance."

"You need me?" Theo could not help smiling, puffing his chest out a little. This, he considered, might be the first time, in all of their long existences within the Velvet Room, that she had so much as _suggested_ that he could be of use. "I am unsure, is this an appropriate situation in which one can 'shed happy tears?' Because I..."

She was snapping her fingers in front of his face again. "_Focus_, Theo."

"But, why have you brought me to..." He looked around what appeared to be a small park in an urban area.

"Because I can no longer enter the Velvet Room, now that I have left it." This caught Theo's attention sure enough, and he turned around to gape at her. "And thus, I had to bring you with me upon my exit." She held up her hand before he could speak. "You will no doubt be welcomed back, as your transgression was unwilling. So please attend to me _now_ so that you can go _back_."

"I... very well." He resumed his more usual posture, straightening out his back, and checking just once with his hand to make sure his hat was properly in place. "What would you have of me?"

Margaret sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose. "I need to know what you did."

"...Beg pardon?"

"I need to find Elizabeth. She is surely helping, or has helped, the boy who is the Great Seal. So I am asking you again, Theo, while I still have patience... what did you do? How did you free the girl from _her_ Seal?"

Theodore did something very strange, then, without thinking about it. He had probably witnessed The Girl do it at some point... But when he bit his thumbnail and winced, Margaret apparently read meaning into it, because she clutched her hair, looked at the sky, and screamed in frustration.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Four: Painting Outside the Lines**

* * *

><p>Hidehiko "Brown" Uesugi held up his glass and turned it in his hands. Sometimes, he mused, he just shouldn't pick up the phone.<p>

He was in a bar, an American bar, in... okay, he actually couldn't even remember the city anymore. Just the latest in a whirlwind global tour. "Persona Tour 2021," that's what he'd call it, if he could say a damned thing to anyone.

Brown wasn't much of a celebrity anymore – okay, yeah, a bit, but not like Elly, his time in the spotlight had more or less come and gone, and good riddance if it meant spending time with people like Junko Kurosu – but he was enough of one to get away with The Plan. And so he'd been everywhere, these last few years, every continent (Hidehiko's adventures in Antarctica, there was a bestselling novel for you), getting the information that he was able to dig up, whenever he could. Information on Persona incidents, and on Demon incidents, and anything else that might fit the bill.

It had been Elly's plan, but of course it had been _you-know-who_ that had actually picked up the phone and called him, had asked him to do it. Otherwise he might have turned it down. And no matter what he'd said in those days, there'd been no question that he was their leader, right up until the end.

How could he say no? Nobody had ever said it, but they'd all been in that mess because he'd made that stupid bet with Masao. All that Hell because he'd wanted a free hamburger. Maki told him not to blame himself, sometimes, but that was only because _she_ blamed _her_self. Well, she was a therapist, anyway; what else would she say to him?

* * *

><p>Maki Sonomura stood for a moment in silence, in the dim light, and then raised her arm in a smooth arc. The paint drew across in a thin line, like a blade; she stepped back to view the results.<p>

The studio that her husband had put together for her in their home was warm, comforting, and fully stocked; the one thing that it didn't have were the decorations that were nearly everywhere else in their home, and at her place of business: toys, childhood affections, juvenalia... she'd been weaning herself down slowly for over a decade, now, and the studio was completely clean. The room where they received guests, too, and their bedroom. It was slow progress, but it was progress.

They were the trappings of an old life, and while she was a more complete person than she had ever been (thanks to him, all thanks to him), she was a licensed therapist, and she was aware that problems don't "cure" themselves overnight. It took work, maintenance, loving support. She had that, and still it was an uphill climb – be it one filled with the joys of a loving marriage.

They hadn't been able to have children – she hadn't been comfortable with that, and he understood – but there was still time, there was always time.

The painting was abstract – most of her paintings always had been. But she saw more than just a feeling, or a concept, when she looked at them. She saw stories, places, people. Sometimes they were of things she knew, but just as frequently they were impressions of things that she didn't, could only sense in some vague way. This study in warm colors was a man who'd stood in line in front of her in a Rosa Candida outlet a few weeks earlier. He'd been trying to find a gift for his daughter, and was fumbling in an adorable fashion. But this was not an image of how she felt in seeing him – it was an image of what lay beneath that self.

It was so easy to think of _Persona_ as some sort of magical power granted to the gifted. Certainly, many of them had felt that way back in 1997, when Philemon had spoken to them from the collective unconscious; but in truth it was what he'd actually _said_, that _Persona _was a part of each person, the sides that they showed the world in turn. What her friends had been able to do – what her Ideal Self, her Shadow, had been able to do – that was indeed something elevated, a synchrony with their inner selves, a bridging of the gap between man and demon. But even without Philemon's gift, people had things that slept inside of them, and sometimes Maki could feel those things – abstract sensations that were each individual works of art.

They had called it "_Persona_ resonance," but really it was just the ability to reach out and find a level of understanding with another person.

And so when Maki came into contact with a beautiful soul, as she had with the man at the store, she would try to capture some part of that to share with the world. Because they all could use the reminder that this world held such people within it.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is nothing in the Velvet Room)-<strong>

Igor sat, and waited.

One wouldn't think, necessarily, that one would have to "wait" in a place outside of the regular flow of time, a place that existed as a suburb of the collective unconscious itself. But humanity, it had no perception of anything but linear time, and when those chosen by Igor's master needed to enter the Velvet Room, they did so at what could be mistaken for random. Igor, and those who shared this space, did not need food or rest; they were ever-patient. But they were autonomous souls, and at least to a point, and so it was that there were moments like these: the girl and the soldier would not return for a period of time, and he had no other expected guests for even longer.

Which wasn't to say that he'd _never_ had unexpected guests; it had, in fact, been one of his favorite patrons who had dragged the con artist Youichi Makimura into the Velvet Room while he had been in her custody. And there were always the occasional gifted; someone with a psychic glimpse or a pointed dream, who would be shown brief hospitality before they passed on.

Which was all to say that Igor had little to _do_ but watch the Demon Artist paint, but a great deal to _think_ about, as he waited in his assigned place for the next visitation.

The artist was painting an image specifically for Igor at the moment, as a way of greeting – they had not seen each other for a time, however indeterminate that time might have been. It was an image of "Pinocchio" - the Demon Artist had always had a pointed sense of humor. Igor steepled his fingers and thought of his past – a possession that he was so rarely expected to have.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

You could be forgiven for thinking that Masao Inaba was bitter. He lost out on the love of his life, who had chosen his best friend. That would be enough for most people, anyway.

And yet there he was, duffel of spray cans over his shoulder, making another masterpiece under cover of night in New York City, with a stupid grin on his face. He even had the old yellow stocking cap on, the one he only wore now when he was painting like this.

You couldn't call it "tagging" anymore: when the storeowner woke up the next morning and found a "Susano original" on his outside wall, his property values would go through the roof and his business would triple. The press outlets had even stopped calling Mark "the Japanese Banksy," ever since it was Japan's _Coolest_ magazine that had gotten the big interview and not them.

No, Mark was having the time of his life, and maybe he hadn't met anyone as perfect as Maki yet, but he had a long line of women wiling to audition. And his mother was well taken care of, too, which never stopped being a load off of his mind.

He cinched up the nylon cord attached to the pulley by his belt buckle and raised himself up another foot, so that he could touch up the details. He had artist's assistants who'd kill to come out and help him on projects like these, but he liked the solitude of this part of the job, and he'd had years of experience being a nobody who did this the same way every other nobody did it, so he always turned them down.

This was a good thing, because when the incident occurred a moment later, nobody else got hurt.

* * *

><p>Where had Brown been? Hm. He mulled it over while he drank.<p>

That place in the UK... had it been England, or one of the other countries? He didn't even remember. The rumors had talked about old faerie legends, Arthurian tradition, and – given that the epicenter had likely been a secluded boarding house – likely a bit of _Harry Potter_, too. That must have been a trip. All that "hero's journey" stuff would mess with a teenager's head.

There was the Parisian art school, too. That was another glamourous locale. He couldn't imagine what the "dungeons" had looked like in that escapade.

He... didn't have much luck in the small village in... what African country had it been? It had sounded made up. He'd stuck out like a sore thumb there, but he'd at least been able to do some nice publicity for an area that could use a little more support from the first world. Brown wasn't the world's _most_ charitable soul, but he wasn't an asshole, either.

Dozens of other places, too, all around. Rich places and poor places. Large communities and small ones. The only solid links were the usual ones – kids did a lot of the heavy lifting, most of it happened without the rest of the world knowing, and things got real ugly. If a tenth of the rumors were true, the world should have ended a hundred times over by now.

The Plan, as outlined, was not without its self-serving aspects. In traveling the world, Brown was raising his own publicity; he was becoming known as a man of the world, a socially-conscious star. There was talk, ever-so-slightly, of putting him back on television. A real show, not some fading grab for attention. If anything, people were remembering his fame more fondly than they'd regarded it the first time. But obviously, that hadn't been the goal.

The goal had been to check up on Nanjou.

* * *

><p><strong>-2013-<strong>

She first met him when he was apologising.

Mitsuru Kirijo came to her office early one morning to find that Kei Nanjou was already there, motorcycle helmet clutched under his arm. Before she could call security, he gave her a long, low bow, and from his aristocratic bearing, she knew that the bow was as close as a man like him would come to groveling at her feet. It bought him sixty seconds.

That had been all he needed.

The Kirijo Group had split with the Nanjo Group long ago. When the explosion occurred however—the one that had claimed the lives of her grandfather, Yukari Takeba's father, and was a part of the incident that also killed Minato Arisato's parents, when Aigis had sealed Ryoji Mochizuki away within him—much of what was left of the Nanjo Group folded in on itself, and her father began making overtures to buy up what was left, in hopes of getting access to their files and technology. In the process, Mitsuru had been arranged to marry a vile and disrespectful young man that Minato helped free her from.

What she hadn't known, what her father Takeharu Kirijo had not told her before he died at Shuji Ikutski's hands, was that Kei Nanjou had also been attempting to regain control of his former company. He and his fellow alumni at St. Hermelin High School had been some of the first recorded Persona users, and much of her grandfather's research had been based on an earlier incident in which they were involved. It was that incident, among others, for which Kei Nanjou had been trying to atone. It was a sentiment that Mitsuru understood very well.

When her father died, Kei was able to buy up all of Nanjou's stocks in the ensuing chaos. For this opportunism, he had apologised. But he also apologised on behalf of his corporation for her arranged marriage, something that he had taken no part in. This generosity had touched her. And while his wealth and power had not impressed her (she was his every match in that department), what _had_ impressed her, she was a little ashamed to admit, was his motorcycle.

They had taken trips out to the country villages where her father had occasionally brought her on summer trips, and they'd raced together. She'd been amazed to discover that there was somebody who could truly act as her equal. Not even Minato, for all of his many positive qualities, could match her in areas that Kei could (and she hadn't a chance, anyway—not even she was so naïve as to miss the way that he looked at Takeba, her closest friend). When she and Kei grew closer, she was also surprised to discover that sometimes a relationship could be _easy_ in ways that had never been explained to her. She felt that her father would have been impressed with Kei Nanjou, as well. Perhaps never more so than when he admitted to her that while he would indeed be interested in progressing their relationship, he needed first to establish his desires regarding their combined front against possible resurgences in Persona incidents—so that _those_ overtures would not be confused with other ones.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is nothing in the Velvet Room)-<strong>

Nanashi's fingers pressed down on the piano keys, and the music did not deviate, but he was looking at his master. Or perhaps "look" was the wrong word – a perfect blue ribbon was drawn across his eyes, ostensibly to aid his focus, as for Nanashi, his music should be all. Music of the heart and the soul, music capable even of stirring his master into the tears caused by the telephone on his table. Call it instead "sensing," but either way he knew that his master was troubled.

This was unprecedented. Nothing could distress the servant of Philemon. Not the world's ending, not the fate of Wild Card or Paradox Boy could stir him in this fashion.

Belladonna had noticed, as well; and while her voice did not waver, and the fingers of her hands, clamped so tightly over her ears, did not tremble – their song took on a new emotion of its own, a concern for their beloved master.

* * *

><p><strong>-1945-<strong>

The construct had been carved, and most delicately, at the turn of the past century; but it was not given life until much of the world was burning.

In an underground laboratory, a scientist was wringing his black-gloved hands as he regarded the construct. It had been a doll, once, a marionette of exquisite construction and extremely lifelife – if decidedly creepy in form, with its glaring eyes and long protuberance of a nose.

The scientist, whose name was Victor, had acquired the doll for the culmination of his life's work – the study of life and what lay beyond. It was a pursuit that had drawn him to the side of devil summoners in years past, and it had gained him immortality itself. But the one thing he had not yet done was create _new_ life.

As Victor began the process, however, there was a commotion from above, the sound of splintering wood, and he knew that he was too late. It had not been the first time that the ignorant had discovered his experiments and risen against him – he had been chased from his very homeland for that reason.

Dr. Victor pulled on his long red cape and cast one last look at the puppet, where energy was already beginning to collect. It was too late to stop the process, and removing the doll partway through would be disastrous. He would have to leave it behind, a fate that he cursed even as he slipped through a back passageway. His escape route had already been planned. He'd be at sea within the hour.

While the building above Dr. Victor's laboratory burned, the townspeople never discovered the doll that was receiving life. Because at the moment that the doll was waking, at a moment where, in some other world or time, a bomb of unspeakable devastation would detonate and change the world, a butterfly landed gracefully on the doll's cheek, just below its opening eye.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

_...Yo LV  
>yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo<br>yo yo..._

It wasn't that they didn't trust Nanjou – not _exactly_.

Brown waved the bartender, a large man in dark glasses, over for another drink. He'd been recommended the Cuba Libre; not Brown's usual drink, but it tasted just right for mood he was in.

Nanjou would answer the phone, or at least get right back to you when you called. That was admirable. But Nanjou had made it clear that he hadn't needed anyone's help – at least, beyond his fiancee's – when it came to Persona matters. The way that Maki told it, Nanjou wasn't being evasive for the wrong reasons; he believed that if he took this on himself, everyone else could live a normal life. This, also, was admirable. Maki was worried that he still carried guilt over his father's complicity in the actions of the NWO, but more to the point, by holding them all at arm's length, he was unofficially speaking _for_ them in these matters, and that was what set them all on edge.

It hadn't been that way before – when Kandori had returned from death itself, he'd worked with Elly at least (a period which she herself was evasive regarding! _Hmmm_), but even then he hadn't called the two people who should've known first: Maki and Reiji. And since then...

Someone slid onto a stool at the corner of the bar, and the way that his eyes moved behind his glasses suggested to Hidehiko that this was the man he'd agreed to meet. He eased closer and signaled to the bartender that he'd be covering the man's beverages for the evening.

"You're just like she described you." The man offered the bartender an uneasy glance as he took the drink.

"Uh... 'she'?"

"Maya Amano." He took a belt of his drink. "Sorry. My name's Justin. Justin Bailey." He wiped his hands on his vest.

"You know Amano?" Brown's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, we just met at a thing. Years ago. Hardly a journalist that wasn't there. We're not friends, or anything." He looked around the bar, as if he expected friendly faces. "She's a wonderful woman. Most of the room was taken with her. But she had a tendency to talk more about her friends than herself, and I guess that included you."

This wasn't expected, but it wasn't entirely unreasonable, either. "Well... anyway, I wanted to meet you to ask you about..."

"The Weakening Deaths, yeah. 'The Woman's Curse.' Well, I interviewed a lot of the involved people back then – including one of the officers involved in the initial investigation... Officer Morgan Cortez." He didn't even need to check his notebook; the case had been many years earlier. As Brown had suspected, he had been personally involved. "I am _very_ concerned with the confidentiality of most of my sources, here – Officer Cortez is the only one in the public record – so I'm not sure what you want to ask me."

"Whatever you can tell me." Brown took off his hat and placed it on the bar. The bartender was viewing him with suspicion – okay, that meant the bar itself had likely been a major location during the incident, as well.

People tended to think that Brown was stupid; it was true that he rarely appeared to be taking things seriously, but he paid more attention than he was given credit for. Somehow, he suspected that had been the reason it was he who was asked to follow up on these cases.

He noticed a single black ant crawling along the edge of the bar. Without a second thought, he slammed his fist down and crushed it.

"Can you tell me about the cause of death?" He made a vague gesture with his hands. "They said that there were no wounds. There were some cases back in Japan that..."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about those. The 'apathy syndrome,' right?"

"And the Hanged Man Killings. I'm not sure if word of that might have made it to the States." Brown wiped his hand with a napkin.

"Well, this wasn't like those. The people – the men – they were _desiccated_. Like they'd been drained of something, you know?"

"Mmm." And they had not, apparently, still been able to walk around, dead or no. The facts didn't line up exactly, but they never quite did.

* * *

><p><strong>-2018-<strong>

Chidori Yoshino was working on her latest painting when she heard the whine. She blinked and looked to the clock. She was an hour behind... again. She frowned and went to rinse off her brush and palette. The whine came again, from the living room. "I'm coming!" And at that, the sound immediately stopped. She shook her head and finished her clean-up as quickly as she was able. She always lost time when she painted; there were things in her work that she was trying to approach, and she just could not figure out how.

They were, she sometimes worried, things within _her_ that she could not approach.

When she entered the living room, the source of the whine did not even look up at her, busy watching the television – that ratty old boxed set of _The True Battles of Real Men_. She sighed. "I am here now. Can you wait another moment, or will you be dying immediately?"

The source of the whine lifted his head slightly, and barked once.

"Very well. Let's eat, then." Koromaru stood slowly and followed her into the kitchen.

The old Shiba Inu had come with the marriage. Chidori would not have believed that she would care for a dog in her home, but Koromaru - "Koro-chan" - was not only the world's most well-behaved dog, he was unusually intelligent, as far as she knew. Ever since Junpei had brought the dog into her home, his habits had slowly become ingrained in her – a dog that watched television on his own! - but the most peculiar was that he wouldn't eat unless she sat and ate her own meals in the room with him, as if he was worried that she wouldn't eat without the reminder. It as if he knew that she'd endured long stays in hospitals in the past, that she'd had troubles that would lead her not to eat; a fact that she couldn't reasonably expect a dog to pick up on.

She rarely had problems of that nature anymore; her husband had seen to that, to best of his ability. But she could get lonely, and occasionally a little depressed, being at home alone with her artwork while Junpei was at work. So she liked having the company.

Koromaru walked a little more slowly than he used to; he also took more naps than he had when she first knew him. This shouldn't be strange – dogs got older – but in Koro-chan, it seemed unnatural. Shiba Inus generally lived twelve to fifteen years, was what she'd read, but their dog had been more or less full grown when she first met him, and it was now... eight years later? Nine? Ten? She lost track of time, sometimes. But Koromaru didn't look elderly, just worn out. She'd asked Junpei about it once; he'd just laughed and said that Koromaru was the sort of dog who'd never die. It worried her sometimes. He was so protective... what would he do when he lost his best friend? But then, what would _she_ ever do if she lost either of them?

They settled into eat, and Chidori's mind went back to her work. There was something missing from the latest painting, and she needed to draw it out. She thought it may well be something dark, like a memory. But she didn't need to conceive of the memory specifically – art was a mirror, you cast your own reflection, could only ever see your own shadows. She just had to fit the missing piece in, and the story would tell itself.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Brown exited the bar into the rain.

Justin had been both helpful and not helpful. He'd clearly been forthcoming with the _facts_, but there were things that he was holding back; in Brown's experience, that meant he knew things that could not be real, not without being crazy. Like an alternate universe created from the dreams of a sick girl; like rumors becoming reality. Brown couldn't very well ask the questions that he really wanted to without attracting attention. Or looking like a madman.

"Were there demons influencing events?"

"Did anyone face off against their own Shadow?"

"Were people trapped in some other world, far more deadly than our own?"

Well. The upside of The Plan was that it wasn't his job to make sense of the facts – just to relay them to Elly and let her sort them out. It looked like Nanjou missed this case back in 2009, and his fiancee was dealing with her own business back then.

On to new business.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is nothing in the Velvet Room)-<strong>

Igor sighed.

Existence for denizens of the Velvet Room was such that service was all; their lives, such as they were, were defined by their charge from Philemon, their lord and master. It was noble service, and Igor was pleased to have a role so important. And to think of the guests that he had beheld! The nobility of the Wild Cards; the courage of the others. He had lived to see Shadows with the strength of heart to form their own Personas; to see a machine think and feel as a human did (a story close to his own heart!); to see the forging of the Seal, and the resolution of the Paradox.

And yet, for the first time, he felt discontent.

It was this that caused him to plumb his own meager recollections for an understanding. Memory could be naught but perfect here for one such as him, residing within the collective unconscious itself. And in seeing his anomalous birth, something occurred to Igor for the first time.

He had a "father."

Dr. Victor had been trying to create life, and create life he had; he had formed, without even his own knowledge, a bond that could not be broken. Igor suspected that despite Dr. Victor's own years of service to the Devil Summoners in a similar function to Igor's own, that they would find little to like within each other. Igor had certainly never been a "child," his very birth had been into a life of willing servitude to powers beyond them both. He was no Pinocchio, not in a body such as his, well-carved to be forever old: he was _Pulcinella_, avatar of trickster spirits. One whose love had always been expressed through aggression.

It occurred to him that his discontent was concern; realizing that he had a father helped him realize that he had concern for his _own_ "children," who were now imperiled. Perhaps he could practice what he preached.

He inclined his head ever so slightly. "I am going to act of my own accord."

Nanashi hit a low note on his piano. "I did not see anything."

Belladonna lowered her voice in sync. "I~ did not hear anything~"

The Demon Artist just smiled and continued painting, not saying anything.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

_...Feeling all pressured by the peers and the media_

_Gettin' jiggy with confined place I'm tellin ya_

_Anywhere ya be from New York to Siberia_

_Gotta feel your own beat and shake your derriere_

_I'mma put it down_

_Grabbin' this crown_

_Put your dollars on the ground_

_Gonna double up__now_

_Six to five to four to three-two_

_One more time heavy punchline about to bruise..._

Margaret was once again aboard a train car, but this one was moving. She found it hard to consider it an improvement.

The worst of it was, Theo had been right about something. She had gone to the ticket vendor and upended her purse, spilling thousands of yen on the man's counter for two tickets to Inaba, but she had not specified the bullet train. Now they sat across from each other, Theodore staring out the window and Margaret digging her perfect nails into her knees.

Her display in that park had been undignified, but a little therapeutic in a way that she didn't entirely understand. It had, however, frightened Theo into silence. She had many questions for her younger brother, but something told her that broaching them immediately may be unwise.

"Theodore...?" She tried to speak as gently as she knew how. He looked up, and his expression was... hurt? Perhaps she did not understand. "May I ask what you are thinking about?"

"My belongings." He turned back to the window, as the Japanese countryside rolled on. Theo's collection was a child's inventory of trinkets; Mah-jong tiles and empty drink containers, strange garments that did not fit him, They had been, she mused, his way of communicating with The Girl, by trading trifle for trifle. They were objects with memory. She had nothing of The Boy, had only given to _him_. One of the only physical objects that she'd treasured, her precious bookmark, and only then because her master had given it to her when her service began.

"Is this because you do not remember how you freed her? Has this caused upset?"

He rolled his eyes back towards her, and there was something that she'd never seen in her brother's expression before: pity. "No, Margaret. It is because my belongings are one way in which Elizabeth and I are still alike."

In that moment, she felt like she understood her brother a little better than she had before.

And then there was a flaring sensation behind her left eye, something throbbing and nostalgic, the sound of a chain snapping into place, and a whispered voice that she almost recognised...

_Thou art I... And I am thou..._

_Thou hast established a new bond..._

_It takes you forward towards the time of the healing..._

_Thou shalt be blessed when creating Personas of the Beggar arcana..._

Margaret coughed into her fist, and Theodore looked at her with concern. "Sister?" He reached forward, and then pulled his hand back. "Are you well?" She shook her head.

Healing? Beggar?

Igor had not actually spoken to her of social links... not every guest of the Velvet Room had been required to rely upon them, although the strongest ones had. But they had each possessed the Wild Card, and surely she did not?

But it was more than that, it was the one sitting across from her, unsure of what to do with his hands.

* * *

><p>The incident was this:<p>

Mark was just stuffing his spray-can into his duffel when he heard a noise from above. He was then hit with a blinding pain in his frontal lobe, and his arm jerked the wrong way in response. The cord was released from the catch in the pulley, and he began to fall.

Mark wasn't high enough up that he would die, but he likely would have broken something. But Mark had the power of _Persona_, and Susano-O acted as fast as Mark could think, enveloping him in an earthly vortex – wind rushed in all directions, slowing his descent to the ground and pushing outward. Cars parked on the nearby street were pushed a foot closer to the traffic lane, and a streetlight shook violently, but the damage was minimal as Mark's feet touched the ground.

The pain was familiar, like an echo. Mark had sensed a strong Persona resonance above him, sharply and suddenly. That he'd even been able to use his powers was a bad sign – he was on a side street in a normal city, not in some alternate world or demonic enclave. Using the rope to pull and the wind that he created to push, he scaled the wall quickly, looking for his assailant – as whoever or whatever it had been, it had _definitely_ been hostile.

The sensation, though, was now gone, and there was nothing to be seen on the roof, or from its vantage point.

"Too weird," he muttered under his breath, and did the responsible thing – pulled out his cell phone and made to dial his best friend, the man who'd once led he and his friends into battle.

Before his finger could hit the quick-dial button, however, something hit him hard from the side. His brain exploded again in the sudden flare of Persona resonance, and his phone went flying off of the roof.

Unable to see his attacker, he chose to erupt in a zandyne spell, a massive blast that encompassed most of the roof. The casting of the spell made him dizzy – if it was from being out of practice, or using the spell in an area unlike the warped places his magic had once been effective, he had no way of knowing, but his knees buckled and he had to grip the stone lip around the roof's edge to insure he wouldn't fall off, himself.

It was night and there were few bystanders, but at this rate someone would be hurt – likely Mark himself, at the rate he was going.

Weighing his options (Battle, Contact, Item, Retreat?) he chose to do two things. One worked, and one did not.

The one that did not work should be given points for ingenuity – Mark took one of the spray cans and fired a stream of paint around him in a circle. If it was that his attacker was invisible, perhaps this would mark them.

Even as this failed, however, he was enacting the plan that did work – jumping off of the roof.

With control of the wind to guide him, he was able to glide out and land on a passing bus. Retreating felt sour, but he didn't know what it was that had attacked him; and without his phone, he needed to get somewhere safe to call the others.

His head was pounding, and his stomach was trying desperately to push something back up. But he was alive for the moment, and he needed to reconnoiter, figure out what the Hell was going on before that status changed on him.

* * *

><p>In the sleepy town of Inaba, there was a textile shop in the central shopping district. It did fair business, for its size, but it was perhaps better known for a small but popular line of dolls crafted by the store's owner, Kanji Tatsumi. A gruff and imposing man, he was nonetheless a surprisingly gentle soul and had a grace and delicacy in his hands that came out in the expressive dolls which sold not only locally, but online as well. If anything, they sold <em>too<em> well—Tatsumi had been forced to raise the price consistently to keep his order level manageable, as he would not settle for anything less than fully handmade, and his few trusted apprentices could not mass produce them any faster.

Less well known was that the same textile shop was also the home of a branch headquarters of the Shirogane Detective Agency, and that Tatsumi's wife carried the somewhat inexplicable and gender-confused sobriquet of "Detective Prince"-the rare private detective who was respected across most of Japan's police force.

This Detective Prince had taken on greater and greater caseloads in recent years, because her mentor and the Agency's "chairman emeritus" had taken ill of late. Naoto Shirogane had found herself torn in many directions, of late: her duties as a wife, as an investigator, as a grand-daughter, and as a person unto herself had all grown more demanding at an almost exponential rate since the day that Yakushiji-san had arrived in person to inform her of her grandfather's failing health.

And so it was that she found herself at her desk at home, rubbing at her eyes as a cat curled around her legs. Gouto was her grandfather's cat, and she'd agreed to take him in to ease the load on both Grampa and Yakushiji-san, but their relationship was touch and go at best. Kanji, for his part, loved anything both cute and fuzzy, and so Gouto's arrival had been welcomed instantly; he took care of most of the cat's care for her, recognizing a way to help without getting in her way. Naoto, though, for her part, found the cat to be incredibly forceful when it wanted her attention, something of which not even her husband was guilty (they'd taken time to find the right rhythm, to be sure, but now it was so comfortable she still sometimes hated herself for denying herself the opportunity for so long).

Even now, Gouto was being demanding. Absently reaching down to pet him, apparently, was not enough, and the cat jumped up on her desk. She sighed and shifted her paperwork to accommodate him. She had finally put one of her longer cases to bed, and Kanji needed an evening to finish a special order, and so she'd been blessed with a single night in which to pursue her ongoing personal investigation. The desk had been cluttered with notes and documents pertaining to the mysterious boy, and the incident in Iwatodai that he must have been involved with. The more information that she was able to recover, the less she was able to connect. It was a feeling that she had experienced only once before, and that had been the Hanged Man Killings. Which supported her theory: that it had been a Persona incident, and that the boy who could only be her brother had been in the center of it.

"Naoto?" Kanji appeared at the door to her study. "You need food?"

"No, I'm..." She realized that the sour pit in her stomach meant that she hadn't eaten in... two, three... _seven_ hours. She winced. "Yes, that would be best."

"Good." He nodded. "I'm taking a half-hour break. Souzai Daigaku carry-out?

"I don't... their meat..." She pinched her nose. "Aiya's?"

"Yeah, okay." He knocked on her door frame once, and then left her alone. She smiled.

His shadow had been all flesh, and hers cold steel; his Persona was a towering golem, and hers would flit in the palms of her hands. Naoto had not understood the parallelism until later, when she would return to the textile shop at the end of a long case, dump her jacket in a chair and find dinner waiting for her, or a lunch of (back when she could stand it) take-out croquettes.

Hiding from Teddie and his desire to be made a woman, all that time ago, she'd slipped into the audience of a school play and found herself pondering an earlier request, from someone who wanted her to make him a man. The performances were dire, and the script a butchery, but still it prompted a remembrance of curling up with a leather-bound collection in her Grampa's study. "There are more things in Heaven and earth, Horatio..." What a perfect summation of that year's caseload; of the places she now walked, of Seta the crutch, and the man she didn't fully understand until Seta had gone.

A man afraid to behave in ways like a woman, and a woman hiding in the form of a man. To think: she'd stuck her tongue out at Grampa that day, saying the plays didn't have the life to them of her beloved noir pulps and mysteries. He'd been, as always, trying to impart to her a lesson that she didn't comprehend.

A shared look on the day she could have died, and it hadn't been enough. A moment of contemplation in a crowded audience hadn't been enough. The way her heart had stirred when he returned her to sense in the hospital hadn't, either, or the way she found herself looking at him when he grabbed Adachi and slammed him into the wall a day later... She'd no frame of reference. Not even when she wrinkled a love letter in her hands by the shoe boxes and spoke of love without understanding, and Seta had smiled that private, understanding smile. No, it hadn't been until she found herself so shockingly comfortable telling him her fears, and he had listened until she made her own decisions. Only then, understanding his supposed thickheadedness was a mask for his fears, the way her intelligence had been hers.

It was understanding the parallels that had made their romance possible. After that, it was only logical.

She was shocked out of her reverie when a clump of papers crashed to the floor. Gouto looked very self-satisfied as half of her files on the Arisato case were shuffled together. "Accursed cat," she muttered, and bent down to pick them up, when she noticed a particular photograph beneath Gouto's paw.

Much of her legwork on the case had been reconstructed; someone had broken into her pay locker in Okina City Station and taken her original research. That none of her other similar bolt-holes had been hit suggested that it was a deliberate action regarding this particular case, which led her to believe that it had been orchestrated by Mitsuru Kirijo, who was proving to be a formidable adversary. She had clearly, for instance, gotten to Takeba early enough that questioning her without a legal pretense had proven impossible. Sanada, as well, was a dead end—even if she could find a way to interrogate him without raising Chie's ire (skillful positioning, that), his ties with Kirijo were both too strong to give out information and too fractured to have recent news.

The photograph that Gouto almost seemed to have singled out, however, raised an altogether different possibility. She smiled, thinly, ran her hand along the cat's back, and wondered if there was anyone awake at this hour who could supply her with scholarship records.

* * *

><p>Yuka Ayase had, in her opinion, been failing upwards for twenty-four years.<p>

Oh, you wouldn't know it to look at her. She married a good man, finally, and she had a few wonderful children. She even worked in a good job; and it was because she wanted to, not because she had to – her husband's success was great enough to care for the whole family, if it had been what she wanted. Sometimes she volunteered in her community, and her neighbors found her a pleasure.

By any normal standard, she was not only successful, but a positive contributor to society. It was, perhaps, a question of philosophy, a subject that Ayase had not been good at in her school days... actually, come to think, she'd been poor at pretty much all subjects, but... the question being: Was it not heroic in its way to do these things? To improve the world in small ways and to live a good life? Not everyone could be a doctor, or a scientist, or a police officer, a firefighter.

That was a salient argument! Or, as Ayase herself might have said in her youth, "that, like, totally makes sense? I guess?" The problem was circumstantial. Contextual.

Consider this moment from 2001. The woman in question had just returned home (it matters not from where), and as she entered her living room, she found her landline phone ringing. The Caller ID recognized the number, and it displayed the owner of the incoming call as _Eriko Kirishima_. This woman, Yuka Ayase, she saw that name on the digital screen and chose not to pick up the phone, despite her shared history with the other woman.

But "ah," you say, many great and heroic quests begun with a quite-literal denial of the call. Miss Ayase's fear was understandable, but she could have rallied from that moment. But consider this: She received a subsequent call from _Yukino Mayuzumi_ and again chose not to answer. And then, she received yet another call, from _Maki Sonomura_. This, also, she ignored.

We can make reasonable hypotheses about the contents of these phone calls. In Sumaru City, something very important and dangerous was happening in 2001, and it's entirely possible that these women who had called Yuka Ayase could have used her assistance. Because Yuka Ayase was, like them, a holder of a power called _Persona_.

Surely they _must_ have felt her assistance would be valuable, because she received two _more_ phone calls that night, from even more unlikely sources: _Kei Nanjou_ and _Reiji Kido_. But yes, she ignored these calls as well – more than that, in fact, she deleted the calls from the telephone memory, so that it was as if none of these five failed telephone calls took place. No messages had been left. History was seemingly wiped clean.

Do you judge Ayase's actions as immoral? Or would you find such judgment unfair? She had, after all, been a full participant in one "heroic" quest in her life already. Perhaps she had earned the right to live her life free of such obligations. She had signed no contract, not even within the confines of the Velvet Room. It had not been required, in fact, of any of the teenagers who had been directly summoned by Philemon in person.

The important fact in this case, however, is that Yuka Ayase _herself_ felt that she had done the wrong thing. Do any of us _deserve_ the happiness of a loving marriage, of gainful employment, of doting children? Whatever your own interpretation, there was a dark part of Ayase's heart that felt that she did not. One might say, at the risk of sounding facetious, that it cast a _shadow_ over her whole adult life.

This would certainly serve to explain her behavior at her high school reunion; when Kenta Yokouchi (heavily intoxicated) embarrassed himself in front of her, and his own wife, she took it as due penance, even after twenty years of history smoothing over the pain that she'd dealt him. She offered a reasonable lie to her husband (she was still so very good at lying) and that was the end of it.

More to the point, though, and sadly – it serves to explain the manner in which she died.

It was a confluence of timing, that Ayase would be home alone in her house for three weeks. Her husband was away on business, which wasn't routine but was also not unusual; her children were on school trips or out of the house or staying with friends or family – the nature of it all is immaterial. But on the second day of twenty-one days, she woke with a nasty cough, one that found her spitting a not insignificant amount of blood into her master bathroom sink.

At first, it appeared to be nothing. Later, when she found blood on an earlobe, she knew that it was most definitely something. And while she'd never been the most adept of her former group when it came to understanding the messages of her own Persona, some part of her knew that this was not a solely medical matter. The reasonable thing to do would be to immediately call upon one of her old friends, to ask them for help.

But, she asked herself, what if they didn't pick up?

By the fifth day, she was slowly dying on her living room carpet, and it was too late to rethink her decision. Again, we might not find this _fair_... but fairness never had much to do with it.


	7. You're Gonna Carry That Weight

**-2021-**

"_Hey, Ai-Chan. Have you ever heard of the Midnight Channel?" Junpei popped a piece of sushi into his mouth using his hands._

Aigis did not have a "bed," per se. She had a maintenance bay, which she had to plug into in order to recharge. At first, this had seemed normal. Later, she had become embarrassed by it. Now, like her trouble with shoe shopping, it was something that she endured from day to day, a difference from humans that she could not eliminate no matter how much she grew as an individual.

"_Oh, Stupei, don't, please?" Yukari looked pained. "What is it with you and ghost stories? Aigis, don't listen to him."_

She still "prepared for bed" as well as she was able, however. She did not want to take up false affectations to deny who and what she was, but there were certain things, like brushing her hair, that were not overly ridiculous, and instead rather comforting. It did, however, allow her plenty of time for idle thought.

"_No, c'mon, you'll love this one!" He winked at Aigis, who just stared at him. "They say if you watch the television when it rains, watch it when it's _turned off_ mind you, at _exactly midnight_, you can see an image of your soulmate!"_

She found herself weighing facts as they pertained to Junpei's story. This was illogical, but over the years more and more illogical things, like brushing her hair, had become comforting to her; and so she didn't let that part concern her too strongly.

"_It's just a stupid old rumor." Yukari shook her head, and glanced at her roommate. "He's just teasing you. Don't take him seriously, okay?"_

Midnight had been the signal for the Dark Hour. Thus, there was a possible correlation, at least as far as incidents which would normally be called "supernatural" or "paranormal." While Yukari was quick to dismiss most claims of such unusual activity when they were made, Aigis was always quick to point out to her that their own experiences made such blanket dismissals as irresponsible as blanket beliefs in such things. That was probably the source of Junpei's remark; he was always chiding her, on his visits, with stories of werewolves and UFO's and a giant fish in the Samegawa river.

There was a television on the wooden bureau on the opposite wall from her "bed." It had also begun to rain outside.

She picked up the main interface cable from her maintenance bay, and opened the port on the back of her neck in order to plug in... But as it reminded her every single night, had done since the day he died, she thought of his hand on her neck, gently placing his finger inside that port to touch the heart of her.

She looked at the television. It was entirely foolish. But Yukari wouldn't know, and there was certainly no harm in it... she just had to refrain from hoping for too much, that was all.

She gently placed the cord back on her bed and approached the television, with only minutes to midnight.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Five: You're Gonna Carry That Weight**

* * *

><p>The funeral was large, and well-attended.<p>

As Naoto Shirogane stood and watched the formalities and rituals, a pendulum swung in her heart, between bearing the grief stoically, and crumpling like a wet sack. The one thing in her favor was that stoicism was her default position, and so as long as the pendulum kept swinging, she was going to make it through the day.

Her friends stood all together to one side, almost lost in the crowd of dignitaries, officials, and celebrities who owed her grandfather one debt or another. The Shirogane Detective Agency was, if not exactly beloved, definitely respected across Japan, and so there were any number of people in attendance at this public funeral who were solely looking for the photo op. That gave her plenty of places to look, rather than at the four people who had traveled a variety of distances to reunite on her behalf; to look at them too long would still the pendulum entirely.

Kanji, for his part, remained quietly behind her, looking sick. Grampa had required more than one audience with Kanji Tatsumi before he saw the boy's virtues (though to his credit, and Souji Seta's, Kanji acquitted himself fairly in each interview, all things considered), but once he had, Grampa had been very welcoming, and in his office had been a Tatsumi custom doll, a small bear with a blue jacket and cap. Kanji had wisely decided to stay out of Naoto's way—for now, at least, with other people around—and contented himself to the best of his abilities by assisting her in small tasks that suddenly required strength that she didn't have. She'd never have figured there would be a situation in which she'd be glad for him to open a door for her.

When things finally broke up, her four friends approached, and Naoto took a deep breath. Apparently they had reached a consensus on their own, and a compromise had been made; Chie and Yukiko would pay their separate respects and then leave her be, and Souji and Rise would follow them to the textile shop for the evening.

Yosuke had given her a heartfelt apology over the phone—he had been opening a store in America, of all places, and couldn't get away—and nobody had seen Teddie, whom they all assumed must be with Yosuke overseas. As much as she cared for them both, and she really did, some part of her thought that it was for the best.

Rise Kujikawa was Naoto's best friend, a fact that on some days still surprised her, but she could be exhausting to deal with, and Naoto wasn't sure that, under the circumstances, she could handle being mothered. But Rise and her husband had apparently planned on this, and Rise took Kanji into his storehouse to look at fabric, or talk, or something; it was Souji who gently sat Naoto down at the kitchen table upstairs and began busying himself at the stove, solving problems in his usual way—with food.

As always, the protest that Naoto was building collapsed when the plate was in front of her, and she ate in silence while her senpai watched. When her stomach began to fill, some sense of equilibrium came back, and she figured she could hold on long enough to weather at least the visit. So long as she didn't think about what the following days would contain—an accounting of her grandfather's study, a review of his caselog, a question of succession in ownership of the Agency...

"I have a mystery for you to solve."

She looked up, and Souji's eyes were as always calm and seemingly untroubled.

"Rise has been acting peculiar lately." Souji crossed his arms and leaned forward on the kitchen table. "She closes internet windows when I enter the room, and sometimes she goes out and even Inoue-san doesn't know where she..."

Naoto winced, and her hand ran through her hair. Only then did she realize that her cap had fallen off some time after she had gotten home. "She's pregnant."

He blinked once, then leaned back and slowly nodded. "Ah. That makes sense."

The way that he would delay slightly before he spoke. Everyone was used to it by now, but in the beginning it used to make Naoto wonder. She had always respected Souji Seta as being someone who thought before he spoke, and chose his words carefully, but sometimes the delay was just slightly off, slightly alien. She had often wondered if he had some disorder on the autism spectrum—and yet, he was so good socially, certainly no Asperger's Syndrome could explain his behavior, his ease in leadership. Finally seeing his shifting inventory of Personas had suggested at a sort of explanation, but then, he claimed to no longer carry any Persona at all within his mind.

Naoto mopped up the last of her plate with a scrap of bread, and only then realized that she had devoured the whole plate. "You seem unsurprised for someone who did not know."

"I suppose some part of me suspected." Souji collected her plate. "Nanako will be very excited, I think."

Naoto looked down. "I suppose when the news becomes public, I will have to endure Rise's insistence that I follow suit." What a terrifying thought.

"I wouldn't worry about that." His voice called out over the running faucet of the kitchen sink. "She'll be more interested in bragging." Pause. "Have you and Kanji ever discussed...?"

It was somewhere in the midst of being embarrassed at his question that Naoto realized how well he'd distracted her from her pain.

Soon, though, Souji was collecting Rise and bidding them good night, and as she crawled into bed with Kanji she finally allowed herself the vulnerability, and the sword-thrust of grief that slid right back between her ribs when her armor came down. He didn't say anything, just lay one hand on her hip and the other on the top of her head, and when she'd exhausted it all she fell into a deep sleep.

And that was all fine, acceptable. Not even she could blame herself for giving in, not with her Grampa's presence being the sole pillar holding up what had been the collapsing ceiling of Naoto Shirogane's soul for most of her childhood and teenage years. But she got her catharsis, of a sort; and the next day she was up, if not at her usual dawn, certainly before the morning was wasted, and she planned to re-assume her life, with the new challenges ahead filed carefully into a balanced schedule.

Which was a solid plan, until her cat began to talk to her.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

Fuuka Yamagishi's most well-kept secret: she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in years.

It started in her first year in Gekkoukan; sporadic, then, and unexplained, but so strong when it came on that she would convulse right out of bed in a seizure. The dreams would not cease when she woke, instead carrying on in the shadows of her bedroom.

_Long red curls fell over her face as she thrashed against her restraints._

"_Now, now, Rosebud..." The old man's gentle hands on her face. "I want this to be over as much as you do. Just stay calm, and..." A jolting pain from the back of her head to the fore, and her head lolled. "Ut! You see..." He clucked his tongue, and she could hear the gloves snap against his wrists. "You mustn't resist—this was your idea, after all, you made a very big girl decision."_

_Something dark and heavy whispered from behind and inside her... the world outside her head began to burn bright white..._

Fuuka couldn't, didn't even bother _trying_ to explain the dreams to her parents. She was given MRI's and other tests, and nothing seemed wrong with her, and so her parents chalked it up to anxiety. Fuuka had always been such a frail and trembling girl (and yet still always so disobedient! Very embarrassing), and this sort of thing had to be expected.

She didn't have a lot of friends when she was a first year, and anyone that she _was_ friendly with, well, what would she say? "Rosebud?" Sounded more like she'd fallen asleep watching old American movies.

And then, in second year, the incident. Fuuka was locked in the school gymnasium, a nasty prank that became something else entirely. When midnight came and the walls began to shift, Fuuka had no choice but to believe that she was losing her sanity. The dreams must have been but a precursor to this, walls that bled out all over the floor, the spare few windows showing a view that kept rising, and rising, and rising... Yes, she had to have gone crazy, but when she heard the growling sounds around corners and down long corridors, she still kept her distance, and trusted in the voice buried deep in her heart that told her which ways to go.

The boys rescued her then, and all three of them had looked oh-so-dashing (yes, she had to admit to herself, even Junpei) with their swords and their scars and their rumpled school uniforms. But none more so than _him_, with his dangling headphones that seemed to dance when he would spin in place, cutting a limb free from one of what they all called "Shadows." His eyes were almost always hidden behind his hair, but the cord in his jaw that would flex when another creature came after them awakened something in Fuuka that she had only read about, heard others discuss.

And then she was up on Akihiko's back in a fireman's carry, and then they were downstairs, and then those two giants were smacking the others around and off the walls even as Fuuka finally understood whose voice had been calling her, and whose eyes had been rending her nights in twain.

As she pressed the gun that Akihiko had handed her as a good luck charm deeply into her temple, it was Lucia who assured her that everything would be all right. And when the glass shattered, and her eyes opened, it was Lucia who shielded her from the danger. It was warm inside Lucia, like the womb, and everything in that moment was a comfort, until she heard the screaming voice of one of the others, and turned.

All thorns, topped in red. "Rosebud." The most popular girl—woman—in school, and it was only now that she was seeing her, hearing her. Through Lucia's eyes, she watched Mitsuru Kirijo and knew that this was the one she'd been dreaming about for so long.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"You seem like something's bothering you." Anna Yoshizaka speared something in her salad with a fork.

"You say that I always seem that way." Tatsuya looked at his meal and sighed. "I can't help being the way that I am, can I?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "This salad is terrible. Next time we're going to sneak out for fast food, let's do Wild Duck instead of Peace Diner." She pushed the tray away.

Sometimes Detective Tatsuya Suou would meet her for a quick lunch when he wasn't working too heavily on a case, but it was always fast food – she was his excuse. Tatsuya's older brother might be more focused on dessert than on dinner, but he'd blow his top if he knew Tatsuya was eating "garbage." It was a sort of pretend transgression, the sort of rule-flaunting for two grown adults who remembered when they used to cut classes together.

"No," she said, "more than usual, something seems to be bothering you. Let me in, man, what's up?" Tatsuya had been there for her more times than she could count – after the car accident, after Noriko, Tatsuya had helped her deal, even if he hadn't understood all of what had happened. He was the big brother that she always could have used, even if they were the same age – and even if, during high school, she'd briefly wondered if she was attracted to him.

"Ehhh... aside from embarrassing myself in front of one of the junior officers?" Satonaka had seemed so familiar for some reason... he'd wanted to figure out what it had been, but she'd taken his offer in the wrong way. "I don't know _what_ it is, Anna. I'm feeling paranoid lately." He sniffed, picked up the burger. "Like in a dream, where something's behind you that you can't see when you turn around, or you're back in school and you've forgotten to prepare for everything."

"Not that we ever did back then, huh?" She kicked his shin lightly and grinned.

"Heh, yeah..." He shrugged and took a bite, swallowing about half before continuing. "When I ride my motorcycle these days, sometimes I feel like I'm seeing something, or someone, out of the corner of my eye. But even if I stop my bike to look, there's nothing there. I'm really tweaking out, it's weird."

She shook her soda cup. "Well, maybe they really are out to get you."

* * *

><p>Naoto had been sitting in her Grampa's study, trying to make sense of the files. It was then that the voice whispered, "Check the accounting logs."<p>

Naoto, like other Persona users, had gotten used to hearing voices. And so at first, she acted without thinking, pulling the ledgers out of a drawer. But the voice was not Yamato-Takeru, and so her eyes darted around the room, searching every corner for intruders. But there were none to be found, just the black cat curled up on an old chair. Kanji was meeting with a sales rep at the textile shop who was deathly allergic, and so he had convinced her that bringing Gouto to the estate would not be an inconvenience. And the cat _had_ seemed to perk up a bit upon arriving in his old home. But...

That chair, Gouto's perch, was the chair where Naoto would sit and read, or ask her Grampa questions about the cases he was undertaking. It almost felt haunted, now.

The cat looked at her quizzically. She shook her head and scanned the ledgers.

When she saw the strange listings, her head jerked back in shock, and the cat was already up on the desk, almost as if he was reading along with her.

How—why-had her grandfather spent so much money on internet auctions? And what were these auctions for?

"You should follow the money. That's what detectives do, isn't it? It's been a little while for me, I must admit."

Naoto looked at Gouto in horror. The cat cocked its head.

"What?" He stretched long across the desk. "Not the strangest thing you've ever seen, is it?"

She shook her head slowly. "Stress. Grandpa's death." She placed a hand to her forehead, checking for a fever. "Kanji was right."

"Sure, that's a possible explanation." Gouto padded closer to her, and she had to force herself not to reel back. "Or maybe, it's that you've been chosen."

"Chosen..." Naoto's knuckles were white. Stay calm. If she was hallucinating, then agitation would make things worse. And if she wasn't, then she needed to be prepared to battle Shadows. Could she reach her cell phone without alarming the cat, call Kanji to get reinforcements from the Investigation Team?

"Don't stress out about it too much." Gouto almost looked as though he was smiling. "You're halfway there—you've already got a trademark hat."

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

When Fuuka was brought to the dorms, she thought that the dreams would ease up. Understanding Lucia, what she was, how they were linked; that should have calmed her down. Instead, proximity made things worse.

Most of the others, she skimmed the edges of them so rarely that she could almost ignore them. Yukari, Junpei, Akihiko, their nightmares, when they came, would raise her temperature but the fever wouldn't come. It was Mitsuru who was dangerous, because her Persona had a power similar to her own. While apparently it wasn't as strong as hers, the synchronization left her enveloped in Mitsuru's memories and fears in a way that left her gasping for air. And so when Yukari, who had barely spoken to her before, tried to enter her into a conspiracy against Mitsuru, Fuuka had agreed to search for information on the mysterious explosion—because she, herself, wanted to know what caused the dreams.

But with experience, control grew stronger, waves crested, and she was able to find her sense of self once again. She was able to be a person again, and she found that the people around her had become friends almost without her realizing it. Some of them even felt more like family than the parents who had always been so hard on her.

And then Shinjiro came, and it was almost too much for her.

He was tall, dark, and handsome; he was self-consciously cool, and he was a little scary in that way that, as a woman, you didn't actually mind so much in the right dosage levels. He intimidated her at first, but then she'd come home with Aigis one evening to find him pretending to sleep with a cooking magazine over his face, and all of a sudden she wanted to get to know him better—it didn't even _mean_ anything, not the way that Yukari sometimes teased her, it was just that now she understood that there was a whole person inside that shell, and she wondered what he was like.

Until the first time that, as she'd learn in retrospect, he was near the end of a suppressive dosage. That night, she almost died. Castor tore through Shinjiro's brain like a wild animal, and everything was blood, fire, and exploding concrete.

_He was so small, and staring right at Shinjiro with a level of hate that went right past his fear, even with the blood and the flames all around—who was this kid? With a look like the devil himself..._

_And then Shinji saw the hand flop limply where it emerged from a pile of strewn bricks. His hand grabbed his chest, to see if his heart was still beating, and it came back covered in red tar. He grabbed at his own hair, smearing blood across his face, and even with the open wound running from his neck to his breast, he knew that it wasn't all his._

_He fell to his knees. Somewhere a million miles away, Aki was calling his name, but he couldn't seem to make a sound._

She wouldn't understand until much later the sad truth of the dream, or for that matter how physically close to death he was that night, with his Persona out of control. She just shut herself into her own closet in the dark, held her hands over her ears, and curled up on the floor.

It wouldn't be the last time that it happened, either. Sometimes just looking at Shinjiro afterwards would make her physically nauseous. But the longer he spent around SEES, the more he seemed to take care of himself, and so (as they later understood) the more careful he was with his drug use. It wasn't until early October when they'd both reached an equilibrium where Fuuka could dare to try to speak to him. And that night, when Mitsuru asked her to get him for the full moon briefing, they did speak, ever so briefly.

And then it was over.

The numbness clouded her mind in the weeks to follow—Minato had to sit her down twice, she was having so much time calling out enemy weaknesses—and what followed after that was even worse, guilt, because part of her was glad to be free of the horrors that Shinjiro would unknowingly visit upon her in the dead of night.

And then Mitsuru's Persona ascended, and it seemed that the last vestiges of its detecting ability vanished, and Fuuka was completely clear. But by then, of course, the world was coming to an end.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Katsuya and Kurosawa were leaning over their usual table, perusing reports of incidents that might be Persona-related. They had, in particular, a lot of questions about the Kirijo Foundation, around which Katsuya's old "friend" Kei Nanjou had been seen a great deal of late. Nanjou's company was merging with Kirijo's; Kurosawa had known the Kirijo Group back when they were big-league firestarters, and neither of them were comfortable with the development.

"Have they called you up?" Katsuya looked at his friend.

"My wife and I, both." Kurosawa didn't talk about his wife much. She ran a small antique shop, and supposedly she used to wear a labcoat. Beyond that, Katsuya hadn't asked. They were friends from wayback, but not that _kind_ of friends, where you tried to get to know each other. You were usually too busy jumping in front of bullets for each other, instead.

Or maybe Katsuya was just that self-involved. Of course, Kurosawa was kind of an asshole, anyway.

"And what do you think?"

"I almost slammed the door in their faces. They put my wife through Hell the first time." He sniffed, and then picked up his pint glass. "Were you downtown for the big Lockdown?"

"Couldn't get near it."

"Probably for the best." He held up his glass as if he were toasting, and then downed half of it.

Katsuya leaned back, and tried to frame everything he knew in a big enough picture, but no matter how big he made it, he couldn't contain it all.

* * *

><p>Gouto directed her to an old steamer trunk slid away in a crawlspace in the attic, long hidden behind cartons of Naoto's childhood clothes and a broken and soiled kotatsu that should have been thrown out years (decades?) before.<p>

"How did I not locate this earlier?" She wondered aloud.

"Because it wasn't here." Gouto curled his tail. "At least, not when you were a child. He had it recalled from storage before..." And he trailed off, because there wasn't any need for either of them to think about that part.

Inside was an ancient high school uniform that could only have been her grandfather's. Beneath that, though, was a false floor that Naoto pegged to in a second and pried back; she discovered a sword that looked as clean as the day that it was forged, a case holding a single revolver not so different from Naoto's custom model, and a photograph.

The youngest man in the picture had to be her grandfather at age twenty or so, smiling but with stern eyes in his uniform (shouldn't he be too old for it?), and with the other man's arm around his shoulder and the woman giving him "bunny ears" behind his head. The two strangers were dressed period-appropriate for a few years into the Taisho period, but what made Naoto frown was the black cat who was in her grandfather's arms. The cat looked identical to Gouto, even if the photograph had to be taken just shy of a century earlier.

A century. Her grandfather had always joked about being over a hundred years old, hadn't he?

The cat was beside her. "We don't have time to reminisce. I wish that we did. But you can only understand me because you've been called upon."

"Just... just give me a minute." Naoto sat back and looked at the photograph in her lap.

"He was a great man. The greatest of all of them, every one that I've looked after." The cat rubbed against her arm. "Your parents were great people, too. Detectives that amazed everyone who met them. But they didn't have what your grandfather had, and what you have now. They were Shiroganes, and they were worthy of that noble name. But they were not Kuzunohas."

"And what," asked Naoto, a little more bitterly than she had intended, "was my brother?"

If Gouto was shocked at the question, he didn't show it. "That... is an excellent question."

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

The only dreams that Fuuka never even skimmed the surface of were, of course, Minato's. Instead, there was almost an absence there, like a missing tooth.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"Chief?" Satonaka sat down across the desk from him, and played with her hat. He just looked at her. "What do you know about Officer Sanada?"

He frowned. "Is he bothering you?" As if he didn't know.

"No, not exactly..." She blushed. Oh, good Lord. "He's just real tight-lipped, and I though, maybe..."

Some part of him wanted to give her a treacly speech about not 'denying her heart,' while another part wanted to shout her out of the office. Instead, he sighed.

"He grew up in Iwatodai. Tatsumi Port Island. You ever been there?"

"Yeah, actually." She blinked. "Huh."

"Maybe you can chat about the old neighborhood or something."

"Thanks, Chief." She slapped her hat on and headed out of the office.

"Hey, Satonaka."

"Yes, sir?" She turned.

"Nothing. Never mind." He picked up some paperwork, and she shut the door. Tatsuya smiled at him from the photograph on his desk.

* * *

><p>Naoto had been searching for secret passageways and hidden panels in the Shirogane estate since she was old enough to walk. At one point, Grampa and Yakushiji had started installing them in places that she'd already checked, just to try to trip her up. Of course, there were a few places that not even she was allowed to search, like Grandpa's desk; she started searching them now, and found lots of little rewards that would have excited her under any other circumstances. Unfortunately, nothing was relevant to her investigation, and so she had to try a different tactic – searching the few places in the Estate that she had never had any desire to go near, that until recently she had been actively repulsed by.<p>

Which is how she found herself elbow deep in the underwear drawer of her late grandmother, with a talking cat looking over her shoulder from atop the dresser.

She and her grandmother had never really gotten on. Well, that was perhaps unfair. She just hadn't understood or accepted Naoto's desire to be a man in all but body, a desire that her grandfather had not entirely _encouraged_, per se, but had accepted quickly in that easily-adaptable way of his (Kanji had perhaps been the thing that had taken him longer to adjust to than any other) and supported as best as he was able. Grandma, however, had tried to break Naoto of the "phase" right up until her death, something that Naoto wished that she could now reconcile with the late old woman. How happy she would have been, to see Naoto married! That she hadn't had to give up the things that made Naoto who she was might have been the victory that would have led them to compromise and reconciliation. But it was too late for far too many things.

Naoto found her own undergarments to be a necessary evil of her body. She'd thought this had been because of who she was, but apparently, as Rise never got tired of explaining to her, most women hated their undergarments. When she was younger, and further in denial, any form of women's clothing tended to anger her on at least some level, and so this drawer had been one of the few places in the Estate that not even blunt, insensitive fake-boy Naoto would dig through for clues. And so she wasn't so surprised to find the latch that released a compartment.

Inside was a long cardboard tube. She unrolled its contents on her grandparent's bed. It was a series of blueprints, annotated by her grandfather in his personal shorthand, the same scrawl that she'd found on the remit that had led her to the existence of a brother that she didn't remember. The blueprints were of a battle suit, and specifically a set of computer hardware designed to operate in concert with the suit's life support systems. It was a bit like a space suit. "Demountable Next Integrated Capability Armor." The Sentai-like helmet, with built-in HUD, reminded Naoto uneasily of the laboratory that her own Shadow had built around herself in the TV world.

Extra attention had been paid to a computer system built into the wrist, which was wired into the visor. "Communication Player," said one note, and her grandfather had written "SOFTWARE?" in big capital letters. There were other terms as well, like "Harmonizer" and "Terminal System," with no attending information.

"Do you understand this?" She asked the cat.

"No," Gouto replied, and placed a paw over a doodle that her grandfather had left in one corner of a long cylinder. "But I recognize that."

"And I recognize that." She pointed to the company logos printed in the bottom right corner of the blueprint. The design was a product of a joint effort from the Kirijo and Nanjo Groups.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011-<strong>

Two years after the world didn't end, she began sensing others again.

They were farther away, but they also weren't dreams. It was more like she was seeing things that were happening from far off. It would come in fits and starts. Juno's hum would fill her ears even as she was falling asleep, and she'd get a glimpse of something.

At first, they were brief. The first time, she got a stabbing sensation in her eye and the image of a strip club (she had to assume! She'd certainly never been to one!), and then it was gone.

Some of the later ones, though, were longer, more detailed.

_Yosuke and Chie ran forward, dodging laser gun fire._

_Naoto's Shadow was, appropriately, smarter than many of the Shadows that they had faced in the past. While earlier Shadows had focused their attention on one person, usually someone they had a connection with—Yukiko's Shadow had wailed on Chie with fire spells over and over—Naoto's Shadow had assessed their threat levels and reacted accordingly. Teddie was already unconscious over in one corner, and the smell of burnt and smoldering fur was beginning to haunt the entire laboratory. Yukiko was slumped over him, their heaviest hitter—and their only other capable healer—covered in a thin layer of frost._

_Even without the threat-assessing powers of Rise's Shadow, he—no, she—seemed to know all of their weaknesses, and was firing them off in between bursts from the TV props in her hands as she zipped around the lab like Astro Boy. Consoles exploded, and the strange surgical apparatus had begun to melt from the heat. She—no, it—had already made its speeches and its threats, and now it was carrying out its directive—to perform "operations" on whomever got close enough._

_Souji was guarding Rise, who was the Shadow's next target—it was trying to disable their ability to communicate and match its scanning abilities with their own. Kanji was standing in front of both of them, bearing the brunt of the fire with his shield, a piece of armored lead and steel once used in radiation testing that Daidara had hammered together with fangs and claws from felled Shadows. He was shouting up at the Naoto-like thing in the air, but the two-faced cyborg didn't appear to be listening, and his words had degenerated into something like gibberish at this point, as roaring winds rocked him back another foot, into Souji's swing radius._

_It was now or never. Chie dove forward and into a somersault, and when her legs came around Yosuke jumped and landed right on her feet, which then kicked _up—_and then Yosuke had his arms wrapped around the Shadow's neck._

_The child-sized cyborg dipped sharply under Yosuke's weight, but its jetpack was too powerful, and soon they were both rocketing back upwards. Naoto's Shadow spun sharply, trying to shake him free, but Yosuke bit into his own lip and held even as his stomach flip-flopped under the sudden G-forces. He stabbed his kunai deep into the Shadow's shoulders, and the sparks nearly burnt his hands through, but the extra leverage gave him room to get a knee up into the Shadow's back. He wrenched hard, and they fell backwards, the jet propulsion launching them upside down towards the opposite wall._

_Chie was waiting, bouncing from foot to foot, all coiled energy, and when they both approached she spun, snapping one leg straight—Yosuke barely had time to pull his own head back as Chie's shin connected with the cyborg's head, and the Shadow spun wildly off to one corner, crashing hard into the wall._

_It should have been enough, but of course the personal Shadows were always the strongest, and this one didn't even bother to right themselves, firing its laser weapons at them from its place hips-over-head in the corner. They'd gotten the thing away from Rise, however, which gave Kanji and Souji room to move. Souji's hands glowed and he levitated just slightly as a rush of power entered the room, and it seemed as though all the air rushed towards Kanji, who almost seemed to get _bigger_ as he bolted forward, one arm coursing through with electricity._

_He closed the gap and punched straight through the shadow's chest, surges firing and overloading the Shadow's mechanical parts. Naoto's Shadow coughed smoke, and its eyes burst. He picked it up by the neck with his free hand, and the fist in its chest yanked sideways, tearing the whole creature in half. By the time it had hit the ground, the familiar swirling energy had enveloped the Shadow and Kanji both, and when the others got closer, the scared little child in the labcoat was lying on the ground, crying. And if maybe Kanji's eyes were just a little red, too, nobody had the strength to take much note of it._

Fuuka sometimes felt like someone was calling to her, asking her to bear witness.

Occasionally, she'd think the name _Himiko_ but she'd forget that it had happened when she woke.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

When it got late, Naoto gathered up the ledgers, the case files, the blueprints, and anything that looked relevant. Yakushiji had arranged for a car to take her home, and she wanted to work at her own desk. And the weight of her grandfather's secrets was starting to get oppressive.

The cat had warned her that Kanji would not hear his voice, and he didn't seem to notice anything out of the norm when she returned, just laid out a meal for her and kissed her forehead, mumbled something about shipping rates. She tried to nod encouragingly to him, but he saw that she was barely paying attention and waved her off. Naoto didn't know if he thought it was casework or Grampa's death, but was relieved to be rid of him for just a few more hours. He'd be there when she came to bed, and that was all she wanted for the moment.

She sat back on the small couch in her study, then turned and laid sideways across it as though she were in a therapy session. Since Kanji had let her be, she'd been discussing the situation with her cat (odd to think of the cat as hers already, come to think), trying not to think about how quickly she was growing to rely upon his voice.

"Kirijo is your adversary, sure. Can't very well argue with that one." Gouto reached out with one paw and began to claw at the couch. "But 'adversary' and 'enemy' are two different things."

Naoto glared at the cat who was tearing up Kanji's precious re-upholstery work. "Has there been some sign that I could trust her that I have let slip by me?"

"Oh, no. No no no. I wouldn't trust her for a second, if I were you. That's common sense." He didn't stop attacking the couch – indeed, he was working at it rhythmically with both paws now. "Mm, that's good. No... you're a smart girl, Naoto, so you know this already – sometimes _why_ someone does something can be just as important as _what_ they do."

Naoto could not help thinking of Taro Namatame, which made her wince and look away.

Gouto purred. "Yes, yes, I know all about that. He wasn't evil, was he? Stupid, dangerous, but not evil, yes?" Naoto shook her head. "Here's the part that you _don't_ yet understand, which your grandfather did. There are sides, in this universe, that are bigger than you, or I for that matter, can wrap our brains around. There's a bigger Law than man's law, and _that_ Law isn't always right. If it was, then your friend would have done Izanami's bidding without complaint. Adachi followed the Law, which is to say the law of that goddess, and people were murdered. Namatame tried to go against the Law, and his behavior caused Chaos. It was your friend, Seta, who followed the middle path. But nobody would question, given the particulars, whether or not he did the right thing."

Naoto tugged at the brim of her hat. "I find your concepts of morality harder to swallow than I did the idea of Izanami's existence in the first place."

"More things in heaven and earth, Shirogane." The cat curled around her legs. "Do you know why your grandfather took so long to accept your husband?"

She blinked. "Well... speaking without bias, he is 'rough around the edges,' but..."

"Don't be thick. Give the old man some credit." Gouto hissed. "Jouhei saw that he was a good man within the first _ten minutes_."

This, to Naoto, might be the most unsettling thing of the many unsettling things revealed in the last few days. "Then why?"

"Because he knew Kanji Tatsumi's own paternal great-grandfather, Naoto. And it took a while to believe that Goro Tatsumi had produced something worthy of his own grandchild." The cat shook his head. "He was being a stubborn old coot. Goro was a drunken, smelly gambler, a cheap thug, and more. But he also _wasn't Kanji_. Don't lock yourself into one way of thinking. It can get you killed." He flicked his tail. "Or worse."

* * *

><p>"Fuuka-san, who is the male in the photograph?" The severed head, lacking skin, did not show emotion, but the voice (she noted proudly) had the right mixture of curiosity and caution. "Is this person a family member, friend, or mate?"<p>

Fuuka, blushing, tapped at the keyboard in her lap. "Don't say 'mate.' Human relationships are subtle, we have lots of words in that category for different things." She glanced at the picture. "His name was Minato. He... passed away, some years ago." She looked back to the head. "He was a friend, that's all."

The head could not blink. "I am sorry for your loss, Fuuka-san." And _there_ was a programmed response if ever she'd heard one. The head did not feel grief or sorrow, only knew that it had made a social error. She sighed.

The artificial intelligence laboratory at the Kirijo Foundation was the world's most advanced facility bequeathed to a single person. Mitsuru basically threw money at her, had done so ever since she expressed her desire to to fix the mistakes that the last attempt at artificial life had birthed—and to replicate the one great success. Traveling with Aigis and her "sister" for all that time in the Abyss of Time had turned a curiosity into a full-fledged passion in Fuuka, one that she hoped would one day benefit the world the way that Aigis had benefited the lives of everyone who had resided within the dorm.

That Aigis had been one of the few residents whose dreams did not intrude on Fuuka's own was only a tangent to that idea.

She picked up the picture and held it up so that the prototype could better see it. "He was a very brave man, who died saving the entire world."

"Comparing that data with historical record suggests that your statement is hyperbole based on emotional attachment." The prototype did not have access to Kirijo records, at Fuuka's insistence. She smiled softly and ran her hand over the picture.

Everyone had their own "special attachment" to Minato. Yukari and Aigis, of course, had the greatest claims over him, but the rest all had their own stories. For Fuuka, it had been the darkroom. She'd suggested him for entry to the photography club, but he'd just showed up one day on his own, eager to participate. One evening in the makeshift development lab that they'd set up in the upstairs washroom, he'd confided in her that sometimes he, too, preferred the distance from others that a telephoto lens provided.

Unlike her own shots of friends and people in groups (groups that she wished she could join), or Keisuke's artful compositions, Minato's pictures had been stark. Empty rooms, condemned buildings—spaces that had suffered loss of life. It was as if there were presences filling in those empty spaces that only he could see. It wasn't until Ryoji, that they'd understood what he'd been trying to convey to them, and to himself. He'd spent so much time helping each of them come to terms with themselves—Fuuka remembered nights in the kitchen with Minato, laughing, with Shinjiro lurking just outside muttering what had probably been helpful hints under his breath—when he'd been in so much pain, trying to understand himself.

And none of them had really tried, had they? They'd offered him token support when he'd been forced to make the choice—whether to sacrifice Ryoji for the world's blissful ignorance—but they'd never dug into his secrets, his pain, the way that he'd dug into theirs.

Maybe, then, this project of hers was also penance. Fuuka powered down the prototype robot head and began searching through its grief subroutines. Maybe what she was trying to do was help somebody find themselves now, because she hadn't when somebody needed her most.

Or maybe, she thought just a little bitterly, it was because she was becoming an old maid hidden away in a big white room many levels underground, hidden away in Mitsuru Kirijo's expense reports.

* * *

><p>Naoto had a pleasant, if guarded, breakfast with Kanji in the morning, and then had set off down the street with Gouto at her heels. If he had wondered why the cat was now following her everywhere, he didn't ask.<p>

She knew that on some level, she was likely failing badly as a wife. Certainly no part of their relationship had ever been traditional (and as kind as Kanji's mother was, she had been known to make that point clear from time to time), but his patience must certainly have a limit. Her cases often took her away from home for long stretches, and as open as she now attempted to be with him, there were parts of her life that he had never really been part of.

And now she had a much larger one. The secret of the Four Families of the Kuzunohas had been imparted to her so quickly and so definitively that she'd so far had little time to ponder its ramifications. Whether Kanji Tatsumi would be allowed to learn that same secret was apparently out of her control. The Yatagarasu apparently made such decisions and imparted them to their disciples like gospel – which they essentially were. Naoto had not even tried to tell her husband, and she wondered if that was her own decision or the will of something stronger than herself – an idea that she did not like.

But this secret could lead her closer to understanding her grandfather, and to finding her long-lost brother, and so she had agreed to play along for now. So far, the compromises that she'd made had been small. There would still be time to turn back (maybe). And yet... the time would have to come when she'd finally stop being a partner in a relationship only when it was convenient for her.

Just down the street from the textile shop was a small shrine. It dominated the slowly rebuilding shopping district of Inaba, and had been the first thing to turn around from its economic disaster. Much of the shrine was now plated in gold, a disturbing image even if she did not know the reason for the shrine's sudden upturn in condition.

When she entered the shrine, a small pack of young foxes surrounded her, yipping playfully. She looked down at Gouto, who did not seem bothered in the slightest. He flicked his tail in the direction of the shrine's offering box, before which stood an older, strangely-majestic animal in a pink bib. The older fox regarded the two of them with its good eye.

"Inari has looked over the shrines of the Yatagarasu for centuries." Gouto stretched into something that, from a cat, could be considered a bow. Naoto looked at the familiar fox for a long moment before bowing as well, somewhat more reluctantly. The fox and Naoto had never been close, even in the days when it had assisted the Investigation Team in the battle against Izanami's pawns. What she remembered when she thought of the fox was neither a patron deity nor a trusted ally, but instead a thug who demanded expensive tribute for the slightest favor. What the fox had seen in her, she couldn't imagine.

Gouto approached Inari, still talking. "That you found yourself in alliance with Inari in the past was no accident. But as you were not yet a Kuzunoha, Inari chose instead to communicate with the member of your team that she respected most. I wouldn't bother taking offense. She's... capricious." Inari's ears flicked and she offered a slight growl. "Don't get mad at me because I'm _right_." His tail beckoned Naoto closer. "I liked you better, old girl, when you spoke through statues."

"What am I supposed to do?" Naoto was growing tired of talking animals already.

"Ring the bell." He looked up at the old, frayed rope above the offering box. She took it in hand and looked it over. "And steady yourself. It's always hard on the stomach the first time."

"I don't understand." She clanged the bell once, and then... the world turned inside out. Not since her first trip through the television, dumped roughly into another world by Taro Namatame, had her insides revolted so violently at a shift in atmosphere. She almost fell to her knees as the setting shifted from Inaba to a grand, dark hall.

"Steady, Raidou Kuzunoha the XVth." Gouto's voice had grown deeper, steadier, more formal. She looked around, but the cat was gone from sight. "Your training begins today."

* * *

><p><strong>-1997-<strong>

"Ah, no, not again," muttered Tamaki Uchida as the screams started.

It had only been a year since what had happened at her last school, and she'd thought St. Hermelin would be safe enough. Had something followed _her_?

She looked at the boy that she'd been arguing with and grabbed his wrist. "Come with me."

"Huh?" The boy was just the sort of pathetically adorable pain in the ass that she _should_ be dating; Satomi Tadashi was the lazy and smart-assed scion of the Satomi pharmacy empire – the one with the horrendous jingle – and he obviously had it bad for her (and maybe _she_ liked _him_, a little bit). He wasn't going to be much use if she had to fight. But Tamaki didn't want to be alone.

She hadn't been alone last time – she'd had Reiko, Yumi, Charlie, and Akira. Even with the entire school drawn into Makai, they'd taken on Hazama and saved everybody... or nearly everybody. But she had to do what she could, and she'd use the resources available.

At the door, she stopped, turned to the other members of the fencing club. Despite being a recent transfer, her proficiency had catapulted her right up to team captain. "Listen to me. Round up everyone you can, get them into a room on the first floor that faces the courtyard. Work with the teachers – Miss Saeko probably has her head on straight. Start taking a headcount; we'll meet up with you soon." And she dragged Tad out the door.

When Yosuke and Chisato had both vanished earlier in the year, she'd been afraid that this would happen. But she wanted a normal life. Personas and Devil Summoning, she'd done all of that before. She wasn't sure that she could cope with a second time through.

"Tamaki..."

"Just shut up." She pulled Tad down the hall and into the access walkway between the school and the gymnasium building where their club met, and slapped a pen into his hands. "Either paper if you have some, or your arm, or whatever. Write down whatever I call out." She hoisted herself up on top of the incinerator so that she could reach the windowsill of the second floor classrooms – from there, she could get above the wall to see. She could see them, already, in the streets. She closed het eyes for a long moment, and then began to call out names for her high school crush to jot down.

"Pixie. Jack Frost. Preta..."

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Fuuka Yamagishi didn't see the others nearly enough anymore.

Despite working in the same building, Mitsuru was a phantom, always busy. She'd make time if asked, but it always felt as if Fuuka was intruding on too much, and so she rarely did. The others, it seemed, were similar, and Mitsuru rarely made first contact. There was always a stuffy looking man in glasses lurking around her these days, who spoke politely but without a lot of warmth. Yukari, for her part, was slowly becoming the same way. She seemed to withdraw more every time they spoke.

And of course Aigis was missing, now, and nobody knew where she had gone. Fuuka sometimes prayed that in her research, in growing to understand what made androids like her, she might somehow figure out where Aigis had gone. But no answer seemed forthcoming.

Which left the boys. The men, now. Junpei was trying his hardest to keep everyone together, always paying social visits to everyone and inviting them to the home he was building with Chidori. And that was always fun—Junpei had matured in all the right ways, but he also had changed less than the others had in all the right ways as well. Sometimes he even got Akihiko to come by, or Ken, who was growing up so quickly that it made Fuuka feel elderly.

But the group was growing apart. She supposed it was inevitable, but she wasn't sure where it left her.

The only one who'd stayed as close as she'd hoped was Natsuki, who met her once a week for coffee or lunch somewhere in the city. Natsuki was long-used to Fuuka and her quirks, and she always knew how to steer the conversation to places where Fuuka was comfortable. Things on television, maybe, or their shared desire to be better at cooking. Natsuki had also taken it upon herself to work on Fuuka's surface—that is, she was pulling her by her ears into a new wardrobe, and make-up to counter her natural unhealthy pallor (which probably came, she sometimes mused, from lack of sleep). She kept Fuuka anchored in the real world, and she thanked God often that Natsuki was still in her life.

Then, one night, Fuuka skimmed someone's dream again. But what scared her this time, was that she did not know this person—but was convinced that this person, this girl, was as familiar as family.

She woke up sweating and clutching her hair like the old days, and she sat up and took deep breaths, scared to know that the dream was already slipping from her memory. Only a name remained, a name that she felt that she should know as well as her own.

But that name, "Hamuko," didn't mean anything to her; and that left an ache in her chest.

* * *

><p>Sometimes Kei Nanjou had disturbing dreams.<p>

Which is to be considered separate from "nightmares" - though he certainly had his fair share of those, too. Nightmares usually involved things like reliving Kandori's second death, or imagining situations in which he and his friends and comrades had failed. Having found love, his nightmares also naturally involved things happening to her. These things would all disturb most people, but Nanjou considered them largely the price of having gone through the situations that he had and surviving.

No, "disturbing" in this case meant uncanny, genuinely unexplainable. They were about a boy that he didn't know, a teenager in a blue school uniform. He had short-cropped brown hair, and an implacable look. Also, while he was a teenager, in the dreams it was clear that Nanjou himself was a teenager, implying that this was long ago, in his past. But the boy was not a former St. Hermelin student (finally, a use for that poorly-made yearbook), nor was he a known participant in any of the incidents that the Kirijo Foundation had investigated over the years. He was an anomaly.

When he'd wake, Nanjou would replace his glasses and sit up, sometimes even walking over to the bedroom window. Whomever it had been, in the dreams Nanjou afford the boy respect, if not exactly friendship. Even more peculiar, as Nanjou had few peers, and so he remembered them all. Many of them were the people that he'd been forced to keep at arm's length these past few years; he wondered if the boy stood in for them?

When the dreams had begun, he'd undergone testing in every form that they could think of, but the dreams did not appear harmful, and did not appear to directly pertain to their work. But on nights like these, when Nanjou saw his reflection in the bedroom window, he could almost see the shape of what the dreams meant, only for that shape to dissolve as wakefulness completely returned.

* * *

><p>Naoto Shirogane, the fifteenth Kuzunoha in the line of Raidou, was ready to pass out at her desk when her phone rang.<p>

She picked it up upside down first, and quickly righted it as she kicked her desk drawer closed. Inside the drawer was a belt that carried several thin tubes, similar to the ones in her grandfather's doodle on the DEMONICA blueprints. The world was a whole lot stranger and scarier than it was twelve hours earlier, and even more so than twenty-four hours before that; and this was a life that had faced the goddess of Izanami upon the slope leading to the underworld.

The phone call was from a contact that she had gotten in touch with, what felt like a lifetime ago. It was regarding the scholarship records of a "Keisuke Hiraga" - as planned, her contact had been able to trace the results of a photography contest to learn what other entrants that year had been students at Gekkoukan High School.

Her contact listed names until he got to one that she recognized as residing in the same dorm building as Mitsuru Kirijo, Akihiko Sanada, and Yukari Takeba. Even better, her contact had been able to send digital copies of the photos that this student had taken to her e-mail. As Naoto reviewed the entered photographs of one "Fuuka Yamagishi," she found one girl in many of the pictures, and was able to compare them to the student records that she already had on file.

When she had Natsuki Moriyama's name, finding her current information was child's play. Kirijo had done an admirable job of hiding Yamagishi away, but she hadn't done the same for what appeared to be Yamagishi's best friend. She'd go to Moriyama and put the pressure on her, and if she was lucky, they were still in contact. Then Yamagishi would be within her reach.

Fuuka Yamagishi appeared, in pictures, to be a sickly and timid girl. With any luck, it would be an easier route than Takeba had been.

Gouto was napping on the couch. She cricked her neck, stood from her desk, and went to find Kanji. He'd been working late in the shop all evening. Perhaps she could tempt him away from that work, and remind herself that the other half of her life still existed.

* * *

><p>"No, the name doesn't ring a bell at all." Mitsuru's eyes narrowed at Fuuka, who winced. "Why? What is this about?"<p>

"It's nothing. Forget I mentioned it." She backed out of Mitsuru's office quickly. Mitsuru had been honest – Fuuka was sure of it – but for some reason, she didn't think that she should explain.

She felt like a great black shape was descending on her – on all of them – from above. She clutched at her arms and headed back to the lab, where she felt safest. She'd vowed that she'd do anything to protect her friends. But what had she done, since they'd left the Abyss? And how could she protect a friend that she wasn't sure that she had?

* * *

><p>The placard outside Power Records was advertising Risette's new CD single, "Dream of Butterfly." This explained why Paulownia Mall was a riot waiting to happen. There was a line backed up all the way across and into the doors of Club Escapade, and there were clusters of people sitting on the stairs to the mostly-unused second level, chattering about the pop idol's new hit.<p>

Gouto peeked his head out from within Naoto's jacket. "Wow! And this is your friend, right?"

"Yes, and she's inadvertently given me an advantage." Naoto stuffed the cat's head back down and buttoned her jacket up to her neck. Fuuka Yamagishi was just exiting a beauty products store with a large paper sack. Time to pursue. Thankfully, Naoto had been here before. The mall's overhead speakers could only just barely be heard over the din of the crowds.

Gouto had been able to sense, when they'd entered the mall, what Fuuka's Persona could do. He'd insisted that they could still surprise her. Naoto wasn't so sure.

_...My life'll turn out_

_To move on like that_

_Just give me something that proves you're not fooling_

_Just give me (just give me)_

_You gotta tell me your love came all over me..._

Fuuka kept almost-swerving, and then dodging behind groups of people in Risette t-shirts. Right. There, that was it... "I thought she couldn't detect us," Naoto hissed, and looked away when Yamagishi turned in her direction.

"She can't," replied Gouto, whose meows were muffled within the jacket. "What I am and what you are should cancel each other out."

"Cancel each other out as in, 'normal,' or as in, 'absence?'" Naoto pulled her hat down lower and slid between two overweight fanboys dressed as policemen with paper keys taped to their chests. They only knew the image as a character in one of Rise's music videos, but Naoto recognized them as Shadows from the phantom bathhouse. She'd make it a point not to inform Kanji.

Fuuka, looking indecisive, doubled back. Naoto cursed and looped around some Gekkoukan students and ducked low behind the claw machine outside of the local arcade.

_...My life'll turn out_

_To be so cruel_

_Just give me something that proves you're not fooling_

_If this is so real (if this is so real)_

_So just tell me your love came all over me..._

She had no exits on that side of the mall, and so Naoto was able to slowly close in towards her. But when she broke into a run, it was clear that Yamagishi was full aware that she was under surveillance. Naoto jogged forward to close the gap, and broke left through the line of waiting shoppers. With the exit by the club blocked off, Yamagishi had no choice but to turn around and head down the rear hallway below the karaoke joint on the second floor. It was a blind alley with no exit; Naoto pressed forward and caught up right when Fuuka hit the rear wall with nowhere to go.

_...When the stars're smiling at moon_

_Wonder how they look in your eyes_

_If I could ever tell you that_

_Wouldn't I feel so weak_

_Pray in the heart_

_When the moon's reaching stars you won't leave me again_

_If I could ever tell you that_

_You wouldn't leave me..._

She dropped the shopping bag and turned.

"So somebody _was_ following me!" Fuuka took a step forward and put her hands on her hips. "What do you want from me?"

Naoto held up her hands, to show that she wasn't dangerous. "My name is Naoto Shirogane. I am a private detective. I only wish to ask you some questions."

Her hand went to her mouth. "You're that boy who was harassing Yukari-chan!"

"I was not harassing her. She just would not cooperate with my investigation." Naoto kept her voice low and as calming as she could manage. "It appears that your employer considers me to be a threat. Perhaps you could inform me why that is."

"I don't know anything... I..." Fuuka's head tilted. "Wait. I _know_ you."

A chill went down Naoto's back. "You and I have never met."

The other woman's eyes widened. "You're not a boy at _all_, are you?" She stepped back again, hitting the wall. "I saw the... it was a laboratory. You were... part machine. Like Aigis. Or... like a Shadow..."

_This_ Naoto wasn't prepared for. "I... you 'saw' my... Wait. You have a misconception..."

In her jacket, Gouto hissed. "We can't do this _here_." He was right. The alley was not very long or deep; people would see them, and things could be misconstrued in an ugly way. Naoto in her jacket and cap looked like a mugger in an old manga, which was _usually_ useful, but now?

Fuuka reached out, as if she was going to touch Naoto's face. "Are you... Himiko? No-Hamuko?"

Naoto shook her head slowly. "I don't know who that is."

Fuuka didn't look like she did, either. Her eyes kept squinting, as if trying to read something far away. "She's... is she Minato's... sister?"

"_Sister_?" Naoto's knees felt weak. "What are you..."

There was screaming from out in the main area of the mall. Both of them turned in unison.

* * *

><p>In the Kuzunoha training hall, Naoto had seen demons.<p>

This had been hard to reconcile with her beliefs at first, even with the knowledge of Izanami. But she had been forced to adapt, and to remind herself that Grampa had stood in this hall before her, and had given a good accounting of himself.

What had been even harder, was realizing that she recognized these demons, each in turn, as facets of Souji Seta. Sides of himself that he had called upon as Personas in battle. It had raised questions that had no answers, not even from Gouto or the voices of the training hall.

If all people carried such demons within themselves, then Gouto's claims of "alignment" carried more weight. Because which demons you chose to face out to the world could mean all the difference to how you answered the questions of the world. And it meant examining once again the two Personas that she herself had used in the past. One of whom, it appeared, had been in demon form a great adversary to her grandfather.

When the people of Paulownia Mall began crying that "the end of the world" had come, it was something that Naoto, with her new perspective on the world, could not treat lightly. And so she stepped out of the alley, with Fuuka at her heels.

The news was about something happening in America. Televisions in some of the stores were broadcasting live feeds, word was filtering in from people on the streets. At some point, an unspoken decision was made between Fuuka and Naoto to learn what was going on together, and they found their way to a location showing such a live feed. It was then that they saw a floating woman atop an inverted pyramid; something that they both clearly recognized, from different experiences, as an Idol Shadow. It was floating down an American street in broad daylight, incinerating things in its path with magic.

"My God." Fuuka went to cover her eyes, and then stopped, taking it all in. Slowly her hands formed into fists. "We have to do something."

"I don't know about 'we,' Naoto, but she's right about one thing." Gouto was watching the feed as well, his head sticking out of her jacket. "Someone has to do something. And you can bet that the Yatagarasu is going to put you on the case."

It seemed to Naoto, often, that her life had been out of her control for years. Sometimes, like facing her own Shadow, it hadn't been pleasant, but had been better overall. Sometimes, like with Kanji, it had been wonderful. Other times, like everything about the Kirijo case and now the truth about her whole family, it was as if the world was grinding her between its gears. And now, there she was again.

What would someone of "law" or "chaos" do? In the end, it didn't matter any more than what the Yatagarasu would want her to do. There was only one thing she, Naoto, could do, and if that meant she had no choice, well, that would have to not matter, either.

"I've felt so often like my life was stolen from me." She glanced over to see Fuuka watching the screen and talking, though whether to herself or to Naoto she couldn't say. "I've lived everyone else's lives, and I decided that it was okay, if it meant that I could protect them." She wiped at her eyes. "But... it's _always_ been my life, hasn't it?" She smiled a little. "I didn't even know that I was living it. We have to go help them. I have to. For myself, too."

Naoto nodded. "We're going to need a plan."


	8. Author's Notes, 4 and 5

**Author's Notes, II**

Thanks to everyone so far who's provided reviews and support. It's always gratifying. We'll be taking a brief pause - tomorrow's Innocent Sin day - but it will be brief, I promise.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 4: <em>

-This is the first chapter since the prologue to primarily (though not completely) consist of segments either written freshly for this version of the story, or written earlier but only now published for the first time.

-Why is it that the characters in _Persona 3_ and _Persona 4_ never seem to sense resonances, the way that the earlier characters do? Well, in _Persona 3_ it could be argued that it's due in part to SEES "forcing" their Personas through the use of Evokers. But in _Persona 4_? Very peculiar. Of course, the "real" reason is that it was changed so only their "sensing" characters did that sort of thing, and if Adachi's or Namatame's Personas could be sensed, then that game would have ended in, like, May.

-Man, the Velvet Room used to be like Grand Central Station in the earlier games. All kinds of people were visiting, either in dreams or directly, or being dragged there.

-One thing that I wanted to do was suggest alternate ideas for _Persona_ games – it's true that you run the risk of being stereotypical, which is why I didn't spend long describing any of them at all. One thing that international fans say sometimes is that they'd like to see what a game might be like if it wasn't Japan-centric. So we're playing with it conceptually, here.

-The African village... African nations are so often fictionalized, because of changing borders and because of exoticism. Hence being deliberately vague here – as it likely would be in a real game. I'd expect that it took place in a missionary school.

-Dr. Victor's immortality became clear in the Japan-only _Devil Summoner_ titles. That's also where we saw his red cape. Was Dr. Victor the mentally-addled man running the Jolly Roger bar (another fan theory) in Sumaru City? Either yes or no, both work fine based on the facts, so let's say yes, because that's more interesting.

–I don't care _who_ you are, quoting the lyrics to "Yo" (from _Catherine_) in this way is funny.

-How likely is it that Justin would still be frequenting the Stray Sheep all these years later? Well, it was implied that he was a resident of the city, so if he was in between stories... I'd say it's forgivable.

-The answers to all of Brown's unanswered questions, obviously, are "Yes."

-Igor's "Punchinello" roots are fairly obvious, really – Mr. Punch is also known for having the long, beak-like nose. The puppeteer in a "Punch and Judy" show is traditionally called "The Professor" - which suggests Dr. Victor as the father almost as obviously as the _Frankenstein_ connection. The traditional figure dressed in white and wore a black mask – which suggests Philemon's opposite. Given Mr. Punch's status as an avatar of chaos, however, what does that say about Igor? Hmmm. _Extra credit_: Considering the Velvet Room was also based upon the Black Lodge of _Twin Peaks_, it should be noted that "The Man From Another Place" on that show, arguably the closest thing to Igor in that setting, was a severed limb who feasted on pain and suffering.

-Igor has certainly never hurt anyone that we know of (and the Velvet Siblings are not literally his children), but he tends to show his love for humanity by helping them commit (necessary!) violent acts: the attack on Nyx, the battle with Izanami, etc. He has nothing to be ashamed of – he's been a pretty noble servant – but it's fair to say he hasn't really established any familial relationships of his own accord.

-You'll note that in the case of our married couples, I never bother changing their last name. Many of them have professional reasons not to, but more than that, it's a clarity issue – we know these characters by certain names, and rearranging everyone's last names is only going to muddle it.

-I did _not_ make up "The Beggar." By the time these notes go up, I'll probably already have been accused of this, but... while The Fool has sometimes been called "The Beggar," it's also known by some Kabbalists as one of the "missing Arcana," connecting the now lost sphere Daath (a sphere of shadows and lost knowledge) to the others on the Sephirot. The idea being that the Tree of Life was more complete when God took a more active and direct role in the affairs of mortals. As for the missing Arcana on the other side of the sphere, we'll get to that soon enough. For more information on magic, Kabbalah, Tarot, and all that stuff Mr. Edogawa liked to talk about, I recommend Alan Moore and J.H.\ Williams III's _Promethea_, wherever fine graphic novels are sold.

-In an earlier draft, I was going to kill Mark in this sequence. Looks like he gets a reprieve!

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 5:<em>

-RIP, Raidou Kuzunoha.

-We never do find out what happened to Anna after the events in Club Zodiac, do we? Her story in _Eternal Punishment_ isn't exactly a happy one. I'm hoping that after Tatsuya's reconciliation with his brother at the game's end, he's able to put her on a better track – it's my belief that he wasn't close _enough_ to Anna for her presence to be a disruptive one the way, say, Lisa's would be.

-It's a common theory that Anna is gay. I'm not leaning one way or the other on that – but high school is a confusing time, and Anna and Tatsuya were close. It's possible that she wondered about her feelings for (or towards) him during that period. As the joke goes, everyone has a thing for Tatsuya (leaders of Persona teams have that in common).

-Raidou x Raidou's Hat = OTP.

-My interpretation of Fuuka's powers hews closer to fan theories than it does official canon, and that's fine, as far as it goes. The question: why is Fuuka's this way, and not Rise's? I never see a lot of "Rise skims minds" pieces the way I do for Fuuka. Here's my reading on that: however you feel about their individual competencies with regards to scanning (or as "mission control," for that matter) Fuuka's Persona has an ability that Rise's does not. Fuuka's Persona protects her physically when "in use," and Rise's shows now visible signs of doing the same. Thus, this other aspect of Fuuka's abilities serves as a drawback to even her out, given that defensive advantage. If you believe Rise doesn't have to deal with that crap, she also doesn't get the invulnerable shielding (as suggested later in this piece, when the others are defending her).

-With the appearance of the DEMONICA and the COMP apparatus, I should take this moment to clarify my position on timelines. Obviously _Strange Journey_ is a mainline MegaTen title – it should exist in the opposite timeline (and while some people are not thrilled with the idea of it being _Shin Megami Tensei IV_, there are certainly hints of that, at least in the optional quests in New Game Plus). It is not my intention to suggest otherwise. But the possibility of something opening in Antarctica is certainly independent of the other plot twists in the main timeline, and so I'd suggest that at least that far, it's happening in both. What resides in the Schwartzwelt, and what happens there – that would certainly play out differently. Likewise, given that a student inevitably began a ritual in the _Persona_ timeline in the same fashion as in the MegaTen timeline, it's not impossible to believe that the COMP systems would be similarly developed based on the study of incidents like the ones in Mikage-Cho and Sumaru City. By 2021, we're approaching the same time period as the MegaTen mainline games, and some people that were born in that timeline may be born here – to that end, someone like STEVEN may exist in the _Persona_ timeline, and if so, the Kirijo Foundation – the joint operation between Mitsuru and Kei – would be quick to snatch up a person like that.

-Finally! A decent fight scene! After so much melodrama! And... it's a sequence that was in-game. Sorry...

-Having Gouto behave _this_ catlike is a bit of artistic license on my part, but it's not like you ever see he and Raidou relaxing in their games, anyway.

-Gouto's reading of the alignments of _Persona 4_ are questionable. It's an understandable opinion, but arguably _Persona 3_ and _Persona 4_ were both about battling forms of neutrality – accepting death as an easy answer, and accepting comforting lies because they're easier than truth.

-Remember Goro Tatsumi? He was a minor antagonist in _Raidou Kuzunoha vs. King Abaddon_. MegaTen reuses a lot of names (Masao _Inaba_ is one that even I couldn't pretend was relevant) but the idea that Naoto's grandfather had dealt with Kanji's great-grandfather was too good to pass up.

-That the fox in _Persona 4_ is Inari is barely even theory at this point. The talking Inari statues in the Raidou games, however, are often forgotten.

-Naoto's great in that, like Aigis, you can envision an entire game with her as the focus. Much as I love the cast of the various _Persona_ titles (obviously), I don't think that you can say that about all of them without it feeling forced.

-Tamaki assisted St. Hermelin students in the first _Persona_ title, without leaving the school grounds. There's a great story there, on its own.

-Everyone's quick to get Hamuko (or Minako, if you prefer) into a situation where she can meet Minato, or they'll create a world where they're siblings. What about Tamaki's poor long-lost male counterpart? Always forgotten. Creating two or three additional timelines for him in this story would have made things _way_ too unwieldy, but I wanted to at least pay tribute to the forgotten soldier.

-Game maps are always representations. Arguably, Paulownia Mall would be bigger than we recognize it, but I filled the mall with shoppers to make the cat and mouse game a little easier to swallow.


	9. Unsubtle Reminders

**-2009 (Timeline B-AB)-**

Vincent Brooks rolled over in his sleep, one foot toppling over a half-empty beer can perched on the corner of a bureau. His tiny apartment on Shirakawa Boulevard did not afford a lot of space to move, and so these cans were scattered on every available surface, often with precarious balance. When the can fell, it took too more with it; the sound of the clinking, in Vincent's dream, was something akin to rain outside of a window.

In the dream, that window was a fancy grating inlaid into an old wooden door, the kind with lots of hand-carved moulding. Like something you'd see in a church – which was appropriate, because where he was sitting looked like nothing so much as a confessional.

In the other side of the confessional, a soft voice, like a child's, was giggling to (him?)self. "Congratulations. You've made it even higher. I never would've guessed."

Vincent's fingernails could almost feel the grain of the wood in the bench beneath him as his knuckles tightened. He never even noticed that he was in his boxers anymore, or the horns that emerged from his massive hairstyle. "Yeah, well, the indomitable human spirit, huh?"

"Interesting point of view." The voice, who had called himself Astaroth, seemed overly amused. "She's quite proud of you, you know." Meaning Ishtar – Trisha – who on some level was watching everything that he did. "You'll make a fine consort."

"I never said I was interested. I really thought this business was all done." Vincent slapped at the thin port between the two halves of the confessional with his pillow. "I thought I won, that you all were going to leave me alone."

"Well, he said that _he_ would leave you alone." Astaroth almost – _almost_ – seemed apologetic. "But she didn't. Don't worry. Everything will work out as it should."

"Easy for you to say," Vincent muttered. "Hey, what if I don't _want_ to be reemployed?"

"You should take the offer, actually." Softly: "I expect your world won't be around long enough for you to treasure your freedom."

"What? Hey!" Vincent pounded on the wall. "What does _that_ mean?" But the confession booth was already rising, shuttling Vincent higher and higher in the dream-tower.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Six: Unsubtle Reminders**

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Mark cursed as he cut his finger open. It was a small cut, but it was something like the thousandth indignity of the day, and he was getting a little tired of it. Opening the sealed plastic blister pack holding the cell phone was turning out to be more difficult than battling demons in the Deva Yuga.

He was lying nearly flat in the bed of a pickup truck, heading roughly southwest. The driver who'd picked him up on the side of the highway was a big guy with a beard who hadn't liked talking about himself – he looked tough enough that Mark had been forced to admit it was the safest ride he was going to get. He was trying to get out of populated areas, and if he stole a car then half of New York State would be on his ass the whole way.

He'd been attacked at least four more times after the initial incident in New York City. Basically, any time that he slowed down or paused for a break, the thing would be after him. He'd ditched his old, treasured hat to change his profile (he might not be a huge celebrity, but he was noticed occasionally in the city) and found something long and metal to use as a makeshift weapon, but every time he tried to go get supplies, it became a pitched battle against something that he could not see, which made him look like a homeless lunatic and endangered bystanders.

He'd been forced to shoplift the phone, which meant that it'd get called in – they'd assume he was something like a drug dealer, and if they could narrow down the phone number, they'd get it shut down – but he only needed to make one call. He'd tried payphones and public phones, but whatever it was did _not_ want him calling in a Nanjou air strike or something, and it always went at him then. Whatever the big guy did, he didn't carry a phone (perhaps the last one alive in a first world country who didn't?), and so he was prying at vacuum-sealed plastic.

He'd rehearsed the lines in his head to make them as brief as possible. In the event that he was able to get off two calls, the first would be to The Boss, the second to Kei Nanjou. Then he'd toss the phone off the truck and into the woods that were zipping past, so that – in the exceedingly unlikely event that the phone could be traced – they couldn't follow the trail back to him.

Finally the clamshell packaging popped open, and Mark scrambled with only slightly-bloodied fingers to check the battery and get the phone booted up. He had to assume that if he was being attacked, the others were as well. He had to pray that they were still safe.

When the phone was initialized and ready, he dialed the international extensions and started calling phone numbers in Japan.

At each one, the line would go dead.

He hadn't even taken the phone away from his ear when something pushed down on the rear of the truck hard and then let go, causing the rear to bounce up. The rear wheels lost the road long enough for the truck to fishtail at high speeds, sending the whole thing rolling over off of the highway.

* * *

><p>Katsuya went down to one of the firing ranges, where his brother Tatsuya was lining up a shot against a paper silhouette. He waited for his brother to take his shots, and then approached as he was pulling off the giant headphones. "Hey."<p>

"Oh! Hey." Tatsuya hit the switch to bring the silhouette up to the firing line. He had a nice tight cluster around the bullseye. "What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering if I could get your help with a case."

"Oh?" Tatsuya blinked in surprise. "You never ask me for help."

"Yeah, I know." He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief. "Maybe that's... I could use some fresh ears."

"Shoot." Tatsuya looked at the bullseye. "Or, you know, whatever."

Katsuya replaced his glasses and pulled the silhouette from its clips. "There's one for the fridge."

"Knock it off." He slugged his older brother in the shoulder. "What did you need?"

"Well." He curled the paper into a tube. "There's a business under suspicion of being a front. They're smarter than the average perp, though... Their books are clean, they've got powerful friends..."

"Like, an organized crime thing?"

"Organized is a word, that's for sure." He slapped the tube against his palm. "We keep probing all the angles of this thing, and we're coming up short. It's too risky to put someone on the inside. We might be entirely wrong about them, as it is, but they're damned suspicious no matter _what_ they're doing."

"Well..." Tatsuya stuck his hands in his pockets. "Who's the weakest link in the chain that you know of? Is there someone that can be pressed under a pretense?"

Katsuya frowned. That _was_ the question, wasn't it? He'd been living his life for years as though Tatsuya was the weak link, the one that fold them all under. But really, it was _him_ that was the weak link. Sometimes, he barely recognized himself anymore.

Tatsuya was still thinking it over. "You could claim it was mistaken charges after the fact. Just sweat them out, like on a drug charge or something, and see if they leak anything to follow upwards. If you don't make it about the big business, they can't be sure you're on them."

"It's not a bad play." He nodded. Except that Kirijo kept her people off of the streets. But Katsuya didn't want to tell his brother any more, lest he start exploring it on his own. And he couldn't be sure what it would take to set him off. "Hey, I'll buy you a coffee."

"Sure." He gathered his things. "I brought the bike, though. I shouldn't go too far."

The bike. Katsuya almost took a step back. "No, that's... fine..."

He had to talk to Kurosawa. Maybe there _was_ a way to get someone on the inside.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage within the TV realm)-<strong>

Teddie approached the shape in the distance with some trepidation. It didn't look human.

He was something more than a Shadow, in the ways that it mattered, but he was still enough of one that when his senses flared, it wasn't just his (if he might say so himself) legendary nose, but also things that would be harder to explain in human words to Yosuke or to Sensei. Rise-chan, who was the one who came the closest to understanding, sometimes called them "auras" or "resonances," but that wasn't exactly it. It was just a feeling.

And the feeling that Teddie was having at that moment was that whatever it was intruding on his domain, _his_ world, because no matter what place was his true home, this was where he'd been born... whatever it was, it wasn't evil. Not like the other Shadows, the ones that he secretly thought of like his "fake family," unlike the real one that Sensei and the others had given him.

When he got closer, he first realized his mistake, and then was confused all over again. His mistake was that the intruder's shape did not look human because it was only partway through the gateway, was only partway lodged into a television in the other world. He trotted forward.

"Hello!" He waved his arms. How wonderful! Teddie always loved meeting new people, and if he could share this special place with them, that was even _better_.

But... His trotting slowed as he considered the possibility that this was someone like Tohru Adachi, a bad man who had thrown people into his world back when it was still dangerous – or even Taro Namatame, who had done bad things, but was sorta-kinda a good person, even if he'd hurt Nana-chan, a crime that he still had trouble forgiving. What if this was a person who was going to use this world for bad reasons again?

This was a considered opinion, and well worth taking seriously, but Teddie forgot all about it when he was close enough to see that the "intruder," and it turned out to be a beautiful blonde girl.

"Well, hel-_lo_..." Teddie stepped forward pointedly, for maximum squeaking – he was pretty sure that girls loved the squeaks – and offered a hand to the girl. "I am _bear_y pleased to meet you. My name is Teddie, and welcome to _my_ world."

The girl, who had been calmly and dispassionately regarding the the strange world on the other side of the television, fixed her eyes on Teddie. There was a pause for just a moment – Teddie put some weight on one foot to get an extra squeak in – and then she shifted her shoulder so that her arm could reach through the opening. She outstretched her own hand.

"Greetings."

And then she began to fire bullets from her fingertips.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Afternoon; all was silent, save for the spinning blades of the overhead fan.

The worst thing about being a private detective was when the phone didn't ring. Since starting up the "finding people business," Kaoru "Baofu" Saga and Ulala Serizawa had spent far too many days throwing darts, talking trash, drinking in the office, and otherwise failing to meet their rent.

Which wasn't to say that they weren't good at their jobs; while they weren't necessarily the most personable agency in the index, they were second-best in all of Japan, if not worldwide. The problem, of course, was that the _top_-rated agency was essentially down the street from them, and their "Mom and Pop Shop" couldn't quite compete with the Junes Megastore that was the well-connected and respected Shirogane Detective Agency.

Which was what made it all the more absurd when both of their lines started ringing at once.

There was a comedy of errors as Baofu and Ulala argued over who would pick up which line, punctuated with Ulala tossing a coffee mug at Baofu's head, but soon phones went to ears in perfect synchronicity.

They were, both of those calls, messages from the past.

* * *

><p>"You think the bikes are an angle?"<p>

Katsuya shrugged. "You said that Kirijo was a motorcycle enthusiast."

"Well, sure." Kurosawa scratched at his face. "But you'll never get her on a violation. She's the cleanest driver in Japan."

"And second place would go to Kei Nanjou." Katsuya nodded. "But the two of them have to be riding them together. We both figure they're thick as thieves. They couldn't resist that. It's a way in."

Love was always leverage. Katsuya understood it better than most.

* * *

><p>On a late night when Yukari couldn't sleep, the door buzzer went off, and she put down her book in irritation. She couldn't imagine who would come calling on her at that hour, when she was already in her robe and halfway through the glass of wine that never seemed to help her get to sleep like it was supposed to.<p>

She punched the intercom harder than was necessary. "Hello?" There was silence on the other end, and her nails dug into her palm. Some kid playing a joke. She wondered if she could get her bow out of the closet quickly enough to peg the kid behind the knee as he ran away. "Hello?"

"It's... It's Minato."

* * *

><p>Yukino Mayuzumi had just woken up one morning a few years earlier feeling very drained; this wasn't so unusual in and of itself – she was a jet-setting photojournalist, and that was an exhausting job. And even when she wasn't zipping around the globe, capturing the worst of humanity, she was pouring a lot of what she had into her other photographic career, an artistic one – trying to capture humanity's best.<p>

It was a difficult thing, being able to do both. Many superlative photographers were only good at doing one or the other, and there was no shame in that – her own husband, a great photojournalist himself, had a better eye for the bad than for the good. Though it was his constant striving to capture the other that gave him many of the traits that she'd fallen in love with. But when Yukki had finally put to bed the idea that she might instead become a teacher like her beloved Ms. Saeko instead of a photographer, she'd realized that maybe she could use her camera to do some of that teaching instead. Her best friends – Maya, Maki, Eriko – had pushed her to keep at it, and it was in balancing the two sides that she'd found a way to be truly happy.

No, she had a good life, but it was fair to say it was a tiring one. And so at first she didn't notice the change. But after some indeterminate period of time feeling drained, feeling like there was less of her, she'd figured out what it was. Her Persona – it was just... _gone_.

She'd put the call out to her friends, and nobody else was experiencing the same problem. Hell, Brown had even suggested – tentatively, to be fair, or at least tentatively for him, and not disrespectfully – that maybe it was her imagination, just a byproduct of stress.

After a while, though, with no change, it had become this _thing_, this dark spot in her life, that never went away. There were lots of calls to Maki, who was getting used to being the official Persona User Therapist, and those helped; she also did the logical thing, and went to go pray at Alaya Shrine – every Alaya Shrine, in fact, that she could find. Once or twice, she even embarrassed herself by interrogating random butterflies that she'd see, as if every one of them had a hotline to You-Know-Who. But nothing came of any of it, there was no threat, and she'd been forced to just... _deal_ with it.

The only person who took it more seriously than her, it seemed, was Kei Nanjou. After the initial period of cautious skepticism, he'd had her come in for a battery of tests at a Nanjou Group laboratory. And whenever she'd submit, he'd bring around for more and more, without ever finding anything.

The most recent had been at a different building – belonging to the Kirijo Foundation, the name of the joint-founded charity organization belonging to Nanjou and his fiancee, Mitsuru Kirijo. Which is how she found herself in one of those paper gowns, sitting on butcher paper in an empty white room, being stared at by a girl with hair that looked like sea foam.

"It's true... I don't sense any kind of resonance." Fuuka Yamagishi frowned, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "It's... strange... sort of like there's a vacuum, only the air doesn't rush in to fill it."

"Right." Yukki sighed. "Can I go, now?"

When Yamagishi had left, and there had been a long enough interval for her to get dressed, Nanjou entered the lab room and leaned against the doorjamb. He was in a labcoat, and for once the number '1' embroidery was comparatively subtle, just over the breast pocket area like a logo. "I promise you that we will figure this out."

She offered him a weak smile. "I didn't realize you cared this much." He looked a little hurt, and she lolled her head. "Sorry. That was unfair."

"I learned the value of friendship a long time ago, Mayuzumi," he almost whispered, and adjusted his glasses so that the light that the lamps reflected off of them would hide his eyes from her.

"I know. I know." She leaned against the doctor's table and rubbed at her face. "It's just... hard."

Yukino had never been Kei's best friend or anything, but it was true: he had grown a lot over the years. What they'd all gone through – twice – had been more than enough to make that happen. And she got the vague sense that Kirijo had been good for him, too. The more time that he'd thrown into this company, though, and the more that he'd pulled away from the others, the easier it was to believe that he was his older self. It worried some of the others, Maki especially, but there was a small, solipsistic part of Yukki that wondered if Nanjou's efforts had been on her, Yukino's, behalf.

"Kei." She looked up. "Why did you guys decide to go with her name for the foundation? It doesn't feel very... Number One of you, y'know?"

He snorted. "I have vowed, for Yamaoka's sake if not my own, to be the number one _man_ in Japan. Not the number one _name_. At least in Mitsuru's case, she had a father who could be admired." He looked just a little smaller, then, like the just-a-little-awkward teenager (despite his raised nose) that she remembered from high school.

"You know, you don't have to make up for his shortcomings."

He offered an ironic smile. "Perhaps not... but somebody certainly should."

* * *

><p>"Yasoinaba Station. Yaso. Inaba. Station."<p>

The train was announcing its arrival, and Margaret and Theodore found their way slowly first to their feet, and then to the doors. Walking on a moving train was a new experience – but then, everything was.

Margaret had chosen Inaba because it was the only place in the outside world that she had much recollection of. Even that was limited to what she knew from The Boy, and the briefest moment outside the blue door, when she'd made herself a bit more like her siblings. Given her limited options, this was the closest thing to familiar that she had.

Theodore's face was darting here and there; he wanted to see everything, try everything. He also wasn't saying so, either out of decorum or fear of his older sister.

She'd no idea where to start. Visitors to the Velvet Room seldom did, though at least they had the knowledge of their own world to sustain them. She needed to come up with some kind of logical plan, something that could be tackled in small stages, and then advance in that fashion. Thinking in terms like those kept her from going insane.

How could Theo not _remember_? Some part of him had saved His Girl, just as Elizabeth had saved Her Boy. How could he have no recollection of what he'd done?

Perhaps better to move back a step. Why had Theo come home, and Elizabeth had not? Whatever the reason was for _that_, it may go a step towards explaining the other part. But in order to explain that, perhaps she should move back a step further...

That her mind was now establishing something like rational methods of deduction calmed her, but also distracted from an increasing sensation in her abdomen, a strange discomfort. Could something have made her sick? Perhaps Inaba was still plagued with the fog of...

"You are hungry," Theodore noted.

"...So I am." Margaret flushed. "There were places to dine within view of the last Entrance our... the last Entrance your master had opened in this town. Can you sense where that is?"

Theo looked up at the sky for a moment, then nodded. "This way." He walked with purpose, and Margaret was forced to follow.

* * *

><p>It was a good plan, until Tatsuya volunteered to be the cyclist.<p>

He appeared outside the bar one evening without warning, with his helmet under his arm and an all-too-proud grin on his face, a dead-on match for the photo on Katsuya's desk.

"How did you..."

"C'mon, everyone knows you guys are working on something here all the time. I asked around, found out what people had overheard, and made some connections. You think Kirijo's fishy, I'm here to help. Off the record and all." Tatsuya tossed him the helmet. "Unless you think you can match me on a bike."

"I don't want..."

Kurosawa cut him off. "It makes sense. We need someone who can keep up with them."

And when Tatsuya met Kei Nanjou? Which of them would recognize the other first? Or if he learned more than he should about Personas? What if he remembered Maya? There had to be a better way.

But if Tatsuya was locked out, he'd keep snooping. He'd take the case himself, and he wouldn't know to keep the knowledge away from Akihiko Sanada.

"They're not gonna _kill_ him, Suou." Kurosawa shook his head. "I don't know how far I trust them on their own, but I trusted them _that_ far, before. This is about information."

Information for Maya. The one who stood between Katsuya and his brother, holding them apart. And if they were up to trouble, and Katsuya didn't dig it up? He thought about Kei Nanjou. The man had helped them out, but he'd been an arrogant little prick about it, and he'd held things back. He hadn't trusted him then, and like Kurosawa, he wasn't sure how far that extended. Not to endangering Tatsuya, but...

God in Heaven. When had he started sounding like _Baofu_?

"I've already figured out where they go to race." Tatsuya crossed his arms. "Are we doing this or not?"

Katsuya couldn't figure out a way to call it off without giving the game away.

* * *

><p>Baofu took his feet off of his desk and slowly sat up straighter as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "Kuzunoha, huh? Been a while since somebody called in that marker."<p>

Ulala was casting him glances even as she tried to focus on her own phone call, from a surprising source. "Ma-ya, come on, calm down... I can't... We haven't even spoken since the..."

Baofu was scratching something out on a notepad. "You can't be serious. Why the Hell would we want to... Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, that's... No, I ain't saying that at all. Well, we're trying to be on the... Yeah, I hear you."

"America?" Ulala scratched at her head. "You want us to... oh, it's here, okay, but why... no, I haven't... No! Come on, don't be like that, I'm just..."

Baofu spun a coin on his desk with two fingers. "Well, I admit the challenge of it's a little... No. I'm not... Look, I think you've got me all wrong, here, let's start over..."

"Do you want us to call... Of course you don't. That's not what I said! Ma-ya... No, I get it, this is big, but why can't we come _there_, then, and help you... Uh...huh. Well, I... Okay! Yes, I _am_ 'thinking positive!' I just want to... Right. Do you really think that... Huh."

"It's going to cost you pretty big." Baofu flicked the coin, and it buried itself deeply in the wall opposite of his desk. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, that doesn't pay the rent. Ain't what I said. Oh, for... _Fine_. Yeah, I get it. I'll expect you to contact me. Right, whatever," He hung up.

"Take care of yourself, girl, seriously... No, I... Yeah, you too. Ciao..." Ulala placed the receiver gently on the cradle, and then smashed the phone with her fist.

Baofu looked at her for a long moment. "You're payin' to replace that."

Ulala gave him a dry look. "Morimoto Sanitarium."

Baofu's eyebrows shot above his dark glasses. "You too?"

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah. Thought that place burned to the ground." Baofu looked angry. He _was_ over what had happened, but dredging up old memories like this was... "Should've stayed that way."

"I don't think Ma-ya wants us to burn it _down_..."

"Neither does Kuzunoha." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Let's compare notes and sketch out a plan of attack, get this over with. I don't like it."

Ulala rolled her eyes. "Were you going to ask my opinion before jumping into this?"

"If that was Amano on the phone, then I wouldn't think I'd have to."

Ulala fumed. She hated it, _hated it_, when he was right.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

Teddie had been standing on the top of a sloping hill when he had reached out to the blond girl, and so when her weapon began to fire, instinct was enough to save him. He kicked his feet out with a sharp "Yipe!" and his rotund body rolled down the hill, out of the range of her fire – at least for as long as it took for her to emerge fully into his world.

His fur was _grass-stained_. This girl was mean!

He strapped his claw weapon onto one paw just in time to see the girl standing at the top of the small hill. She fired again, but he was able to call out a "_Bear_sona!" just in time; a bufudyne spell proved to be enough, freezing the moisture in the air into a thick slab of ice which deflected the bullets and sent them off in all directions. He cowered behind the slab. He'd never had to fight anything before without Sensei... and even if Sensei was here, he didn't have his Persona anymore.

In one sense, none of the Investigation Team but Teddie had them; without the presence of Shadows or Izanami, there had been no more calling of the giant guardian deities, as the world just didn't seem to support them. Not the real world, and not even this world within the televisions, this world close to the collective unconscious. Rise-chan, maybe, had access to some of her sensitory abilities, but the others wouldn't be throwing magic around any time soon, even if they still had Personas slumbering within.

But Souji Seta's was more than just closed off, the way that every person's other self was closed to them – it was actively gone. It had scared Teddie a little... it was a little like being soulless. But Sensei had been strong enough to thrive even without it, and there was very little change in him, except when it came to Teddie's nose. The reason for it was obvious: after Izanagi had chosen to help in the final battle, he'd left, and there was a vacant spot where He'd once been.

Which left Teddie as the only one of his friends able to fight. If this girl was out to hurt _them_, he might be the only one who could protect them.

And so he stopped cowering, let out a suitably ursine growl, and charged at the girl... even if he was leaving little squeaks as he ran.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Margaret and Theodore had made it to Inaba's shopping district eventually. They weren't used to walking long distances, but the prospect of food, and the constant novelty of almost everything around them, kept their legs in motion until they were able to find a place to eat. They could afford anything that they could desire, but Margaret believed in being inconspicuous, and so they settled for blocks of something called "tofu" purchased from an old woman who ran a shop in the heart of the district. Thinking, perhaps, of their master's master, they retired to a nearby shrine, where there was a place that they could sit in the grass in the shade and eat without bothering anyone.

They were both dealing with sensory overload and culture shock. Too much that was new and strange all at once. Margaret would just have to focus.

There was an animal giving them a suspicious eye from a bush across the way. She chose to ignore it.

"What," she asked when she felt that Theodore had been given sufficient time to rest, "do we know so far?"

He scrunched up his face. "In both worlds, the Wild Card was removed from the Seal without harming it." Then he looked down. "Something happened, so that I cannot recall what was done."

She shook her head. "Whatever was done affected things so that Elizabeth did not return, but you did. I believe that whatever prompted this difference is what is causing your memory alteration." But what could affect the memory of a resident of the Velvet Room? That was the question.

The sun passed behind a cloud for a moment, and shadows fell across the shrine. The natural world was a strange and wondrous place. She wished that she'd not been so curt to the Demon Artist now. He was allowed to enter and leave whenever he wished – he could have helped her now, if he'd so desired.

She remembered that she had left the confines of the Velvet Room once before, with Igor's blessing – and in fact with him in tow. They had appeared within The Boy's high school, during some sort of event. Igor had offered fortune telling services to the students there, and the look on The Boy's face when he found them there had been quite amusing. But she had never understood why they had done that thing. The answer had to be, she understood now, that he'd wanted her to see at least a brief glimpse of this world, as if he'd known that she'd be forced to come here one day in a fashion like this.

Her master had been trying to help her, but had been unable to tell her so. Which implied that either he had been ordered to by great Philemon, or that he'd taken his own initiative in a way that broke no rules. Which meant that he'd expected these events, or had known literally about them, for a long time.

Wait...

"Time." Margaret looked at her brother. "The Abyss of Time had led to the Seal, or rather, had provided access."

Theo frowned. "The Abyss is closed, sister. We both know this."

She nodded. "And their dormitory is nothing but a human building again. But time itself may be the key. If time had been changed, it may explain the dislocation. Your memory..." She held out her hand, fingers splayed. "We have always existed in all times, yes? Some part of us in each world. The you who saved The Girl and the you who did not are both the you of the Velvet Room." She curled in one finger. "But if time had been changed..."

"It might disrupt my collective memory?" Theo looked alarmed, and rightly so. It was unnatural. They were supposed to exist outside of and beyond time. For a part of Theodore to be so severed, it implied that something had happened to time powerful enough to affect servants of Philemon. What's more... "My memory would resolve in time, would correlate all my collective knowledge, unless..." He was starting to get it. "Temporal flow was still in flux, the path still changing."

"Which means that whatever is happening is still occurring." Margaret nodded. "And if a part of you is even now being altered – what is happening to our sister?"

* * *

><p><strong>-1989-<strong>

Daisuke Todoroki was not a great detective. He knew that. But, like any P.I., he knew how to handle an everyday cheating-husband case. Unfortunately, this wasn't turning out to be one.

He jammed some fries into his mouth and peered through the binoculars. What he saw was-

* * *

><p><strong>-1991-<strong>

Daisuke Todoroki was not a great detective. He knew that. But, like any P.I., he knew how to handle an everyday cheating-husband case. Unfortunately, this wasn't turning out to be one.

He jammed some fries into his mouth and peered through the binoculars. What he saw was not a cheating husband so much as a man with too much free time on his hands. Kashihara was further up the mountain, and he and the other teacher, Okamura, were examining something and chatting amiably, but this was definitely not a romantic interlude. Kashihara then picked a flower and looked at it pensively.

It wasn't hard to figure out what was on the man's mind. Kashihara had a son, a frail kid who had a thing for flowers. The boy didn't have many friends. Kashihara was saying something to Okamura, then, firmly but not unkindly. The woman looked disappointed.

_I've enjoyed this work we've been doing, but I need to devote more time to my son._

A car door slammed somewhere, and Todoroki scanned around. There – someone was approaching the pair of Sevens teachers now with a scowl. An old man with an expensive-looking walking stick. He looked familiar... Kashihara was repeating his withdrawal from the project to the old man, who looked decidedly unhappy about it.

Wait. Sudou. The hotshot lawyer. The detective blinked. He'd seen the old man in the newspaper. He was wealthy, had bought up and renovated Honmaru Park, and people were suggesting that he had an easy shot at political office. What did this bigshot want with two high school teachers?

Wait... The senior that had been seen with them – that had to be the man's son. Interesting.

Kashihara was standing firm on his point, and began stalking down the mountain. Sudou looked ready to club the man with his cane, but Okamura was calming him down.

This was weird, but it might be valuable. There was a fancy prosecutor in this city, Saga, who had been drumming up the idea that Sudou was corrupt, that he was doing deals with men on the police force. Todoroki wasn't sure what this meant, but he'd guess that Saga might pay for the information on its sheer weirdness value alone.

He got the car started. He might be a crappy detective, but he may have stumbled onto a big payout anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

It was a small village, a few train trips away from the city. They arranged to get Tatsuya and his bike there.

They played it like it _was_ an organized crime angle. They put a wire on Tatsuya, and Katsuya and Kurosawa sat in a car and listened in as Tatsuya tooled around the village on his motorcycle like he had nowhere to be. It wasn't long before Kirijo and Nanjou were passing him by, and then the game was on.

The first step was to impress. Tatsuya roared past them on his own bike, did a quick donut in a nearby plaza, and then flew past in the other direction. That annoyed them, without a doubt. When Tatsuya made his next pass, he tossed them a wave. Nanjou, who still had a big blue number one on his jacket, wasn't going to take the insult without showing up the young upstart. And apparently Mitsuru Kirijo was tickled at the idea of a race, because in short order the three of them were tearing up the empty roadway.

Katsuya was looking at himself in the rear view mirror. Sweat was beading on his brow. This was a stupid way to end the world. He thought about his brother out there, and realized what an angsty little child he had been. What would she think of him, as he was now? It was only now that he was remembering why he'd sacrificed so much for Tatsuya. He how many times he'd nearly lost his brother... including due to his own personality.

As if he could hear Katsuya's thoughts, his brother spoke over the wire. "Hey, I think it's working. Looks like you worried for nothing, Katsuya." His voice was a whisper underneath the growl of the motorcycle engine. "Let's think positive, huh?"

Katsuya's blood went cold. The bikes kept racing.

A gun tapped on the car window.

* * *

><p>Souji Seta was surrounded by beautiful women.<p>

This was a usual occurrence, and so he didn't seem fazed by it. But then, to the outside observer, there didn't appear to be much that _did_ faze the young, silver-haired husband of pop idol Rise Kujikawa. He had appeared mysteriously, not so very long into Risette's comeback tour, and since then had been a hot topic among gossip hounds and rumor mongers; and yet, standing amidst a group of starlets who were giggling and hanging on his every word, he couldn't possibly look more comfortable.

It was only his wife, passing by with a glass in hand, who heard his whispered plea for help.

"You've got to get me out of here."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Come on! I helped set this up! You've got to let me enjoy these while I'm still able." Rise placed her empty glass on a passing waiter's tray and ignored Souji's incredulous look. Her hand kept reaching to cup her belly, but she forced herself to stop. The news wasn't yet public.

They were at a charity benefit for victims of the Tokyo Lockdown incident. It had been quite the news story—the entire Yamanote line had been the victims of terrorism or... something... (Naoto couldn't trace things high enough up any ladders, and none of their people had been downtown when it happened) and there were a lot of orphaned children and a lot of injured people out of the workforce—to say nothing of the damage to Tokyo's economy from the major downtown area sustaining such damage.

Rise had put a lot of funding into the event, and she was performing a small set on the stage that had been erected at one end of the function hall. Even now, one of her opening acts—a small independent performer who had apparently been trapped inside the Lockdown for that whole hellish week—was wrapping up one of her own songs.

_...Inside of the darkness of the heart  
>In the seemingly imitative town<br>Although the lie has been seen through,  
>I still cling to those affectionate words<em>

_The world reflects in gray  
>It passes fleetingly<br>Just feeling despair  
>Destroy the distorted mirage<br>Delete all of the world to do over again..._

She was good. Rise made a mental note to have her open for her next tour, when she was able to... she stopped herself. No, she wouldn't be touring for a little while, anyway. As it was, Yoshino Harusawa hadn't made much of an impression on her, personally speaking. She certainly wasn't very interested in "Risette." Rise wondered if it was some kind of indie versus pop thing.

But then, what she didn't say to her husband was that a _lot_ of people at the benefit were giving her the cold shoulder, despite everything that she'd poured into putting the whole thing together. She was the pop idol or the tofu girl, and neither of those interested the high-rollers who were pouring money into the charity to look good on camera. It made her think about the parasitic reporters who had made things so much worse in Inaba.

The minute that she'd turned away from her husband, the girls had swarmed him again. Talk about parasites... Rise accepted the world's daintiest sandwich from another passing tray and almost crashed into a supermodel.

"Oh!" Eriko Kirishima nearly spilled her drink.

"Sorry," Rise muttered.

"No big deal," Elly said in English, and winked. "Risette, yeah? I've always wanted to meet you!"

"Oh really?" Rise could not imagine what they would have in common. Elly Kirishima wasn't a Japanese star, she was a _worldwide_ star, and was known for being as intelligent as she was beautiful. Back when she'd cut her hair short, half of the women that Rise knew in show business had quickly followed suit.

"Oh, absolutely... we _must_ do lunch sometime..." But whatever else Elly might have said was cut off as the assembled guests began to murmur at the entrance of a new guest. Rise had to stand on tip-toes to get the view that came naturally to Elly, whose face had darkened slightly. There was a woman with the most incredible red hair, handing her coat to a waiting attendant and dressed in a gown that was sending women scurrying out of the hall in embarrassment of their own fall behind the trends.

Rise knew the face, even though she'd never met the woman personally. She was the largest financial backer of the charity event—unsurprising, considering the size and wealth of her vaguely-defined charity foundation.

Mitsuru Kirijo had arrived, and then some.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

Aigis had sensed that the being on the other side of the television was a Shadow instantly, and her initial programming had taken hold. It would be hard to fault her – in the microsecond that it had taken her to adjust to the strange dimensions of this other realm, the only calculation that she'd had time to make was whether to call for Yukari.

She was there, getting ready for bed, on the other side of the screen. Yukari's evoker was buried beneath a mound of dirty laundry in her room, but she'd be able to get to it if there was an emergency. They were all too well-trained. But Aigis was struck by something very human in that moment as she opened fire on the strange, bear-like Shadow. It was, perhaps, selfishness; Yukari was her family, the living testament to the promise that they had made in honor of the one they'd been forced to leave behind. And besides – Minato had _chosen_ her, Yukari, and Aigis could never let him down so fully as to let Yukari be hurt.

And so she'd dropped fully into this other world, let the window close behind her.

The Shadow had initially maintained a defensive posture, and so Aigis pursued it partway down the hill. But when the creature charged forward, and she leapt upward into a somersault over its head, there was an ever-so-brief break in the constant computation of battle strategies that allowed her senses to fully register what it is that she was fighting.

_The Anomaly!_

As she landed, the bear punched forward, and a bullet of ice launched at her head. She was easily able to fire a shot to smash the projectile apart, and she rolled to cover behind a rocky outcropping nearby.

She had first sensed the anomaly in 1999, but it wasn't until 2009 that she was able to determine what it meant. It was a Shadow, but not also not one. The first Anomaly had been Ryoji Mochizuki, of course, an avatar of Death itself. Over a decade later, and she was still processing how Ryoji had made her feel. His kindness and understanding, his monstrosity, his inevitability... her culpability.

The second time that she'd sensed the anomaly, she hadn't understood what it meant, either, attributing it to the Abyss of Time, or to the Shadow of Minato Arisato that had stalked its corridors. It was not until the defeat of Erebus that she had truly understood – or perhaps she always had, but had been afraid to see it.

Her arm was lined up, parallel to the rock face, targeting the approaching Shadow.

_Sister?_

She held her fire.

The bear tackled her.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

The car stopped, only halfway to the mountain.

"What are you doing?" Ulala frowned.

"The one thing that Kuzunoha asked, that Amano didn't." Baofu reached into the back seat and grabbed a parcel. It was a thick padded envelope, bulging in the middle to accommodate its awkwardly-shaped contents. It looked, to Ulala, like a piece of puffy cereal. He climbed out of the car, leaving the engine running. "Five minutes."

He entered the storefront next to the car. A courier service – same-day delivery.

* * *

><p>Kurosawa and Katsuya placed their hands on the hood of the car as they were frisked. From inside the car, the radio crackled with Tatsuya's tinny voice. "Hey, they peeled off. Do you think they were tipped?"<p>

More like they'd been fooled – all it had taken was a red-haired wig and a #1 jacket.

A different red-headed woman, with close-cropped hair and an ugly-looking rifle, watched the two cops as she reported in. Then she looked at Katsuya. "My name is Captain Misaki Izuna. And you boys are _way_ out of your jurisdiction."

"SDF?" Katsuya grunted as one of her men finished checking him. Her uniform looked like Self Defense Force, but the logos were sanded off, like an off-brand model.

"Sure, let's go with that." She offered a weak smile and motioned for them to stand with her rifle.

"Kirijo's operatives," mumbled Kurosawa.

"I've been asked not to detain you for _too_ long, but I _do_ have a message from Kei Nanjou." She shouldered her weapon. "He said, and I quote, 'Don't be so stupid, Katsuya. Next time, just ask.' End quote. Bad boys."

The other goons were already climbing back into their jeep. Katsuya kicked the dirt. "She must pay pretty well."

"Let me refer back to my employer's message, here." She shook her head. "Don't be so stupid. You have no idea what they're trying to do. They saved a lot of lives in the Tokyo Lockdown, and elsewhere. You'd be better off signing up."

"And who holds them accountable?" Kurosawa spit. "I helped Kirijo the first time around. Her father would be ashamed at her presumption."

"I'll tell her you said so." She climbed into the jeep. "Have a pleasant ride home, gentlemen. Don't forget to claim your partner." The jeep drove off.

Katsuya looked at Kurosawa. "Well, now what?"

* * *

><p>Margaret and Theo were loitering in the electronics department of a major department store chain.<p>

Margaret had not known the precise method by which The Boy would come closer to the collective unconscious. Television was an abstract idea to the Velvet Siblings. However, she had known that it was something window-like, and that the location had been a central one in town. From there, it wasn't hard to figure out – not when the brother and sister had seen a giant inflatable bear floating above the Junes Megastore. They'd both met The Star in the past; it was essentially a beacon, drawing them in.

Now they were staring at the largest television in the department. It was not the original model, of course; that had long been sold – to one Souji Seta, in fact, the only "extravagant" purchase that he'd made with the money that was now half-his as the husband of a popular pop idol. A memento. It was, however, the unit that Teddie had recently used to return to his world on "vacation." The locations in the real world, apparently, corresponded to the locations in the other realm.

These were not thoughts that occurred to the Siblings – instead, they were considering the plan.

It was simple enough – they needed to be in a place of distorted time, something similar to the Velvet Room, but without the wards and guardianship that kept that place safe. From there, they would see what they could sense, find some way beyond, to where they truly needed to go. It was a vague and unsatisfying plan, but it was all they'd been able to come up with.

Margaret placed a single finger on the surface of the television's screen, and it rippled. Despite not possessing the gift of Izanami, they could pass through – they were, after all, not traditional humans, not even after Margaret's "eviction."

They could see through to the other side. And what they saw was The Star himself, battling another very familiar figure.

Margaret looked to her brother, who nodded silently. If these two had met, were engaged in combat in that place, it was as good as an endorsement that they'd made the right decision. And the Velvet Siblings each owed it to their respective Wild Cards to separate the two, before they could be hurt.

They linked hands and pushed through the television.

There was a feeling like falling, and then ground scraped across their faces, something warm and wet.

She was able to open her eyes first. What she saw was not a verdant plain. It was dark, and red, and pulsing. They had been brought somewhere else. Against their will.

Theo rolled over and coughed. "Sister... where...?"

Margaret shut her eyes, tried to will them back to the land beyond the television, but she could not. She was... oh, that's what that felt like. She was terrified. She looked over at her brother.

"This is... This is the Amala Network."

* * *

><p>Rise glanced back at her husband, and found him staring at the newly-arrived knockout. Her jealously flared for just a moment, until she recognized the look in Souji's eyes. The "This person needs help" look. She turned back to Elly to excuse herself, hoping to find out what her husband was thinking, but Elly was already gone... as she'd made a beeline straight for Kirijo, who looked none-too-pleased to see the model's approach.<p>

Rise ducked between two tycoons so that she could get close enough to eavesdrop (which was, of course, what the whole room was doing). Elly was going through the social graces, giving Kirijo one of those rich people kisses-to-the-air-by-the-cheek that was oh-so-fake, and winked at Mitsuru in a way that made Rise uncomfortable on behalf of everyone in the room.

"Darling! We meet in person at last!"

Kiriko had a glare that could cause earthquakes. "Yes, is was... 'Ellen,' wasn't it?"

Elly sniffed. "Oh, my friends call me Elly, but please, it's 'Eriko,' of course." Somebody in the crowd sneezed. "You know, my make-up girl, she _swears_ that we could be twins."

The room temperature kept dropping. Rise had the urge to tell Souji that Agi skills would be effective. Mitsuru smiled, just barely. "You think? I don't see it, myself."

Elly placed a hand on Mitsuru's shoulder and laughed. "You _are_ a card, Mitsuru, darling." Those in the front row could see Elly's fingers tighten, ever so slightly. "So... are you treating my Nate all right?"

This actually prompted a raised eyebrow in the other woman. "Nate?"

"Oh, that's a name that we used to tease Kei with, back in high school. You know how kids are." She smiled. "You know, I heard a _rumor_ that you and I share a common love..." The smile widened. "We simply _must_ fence sometime. I just might surprise you."

"As delightful as that sounds, I have _such_ a busy schedule these days..." Mitsuru smiled thinly and removed Elly's hand from her shoulder. "I'm sure that you understand."

"Oh, I've no doubt of that at all." Elly bowed, but it was such a quick and high bow that it was almost like a slap to Kirijo's cheek. "Don't work _too_ hard, Mitsuru."

"Of course not... this _is_ a party, isn't it?" Mitsuru tossed her a wave. "Now, where _is_ the organizer? I must pay my compliments. This is quite a _reception_."

Rise knew that Kirijo meant _her_, and she backed her way through the crowd so that when Kirijo found her, she wouldn't be too close to the dust-up. She found that Souji had met her halfway, and his hand found the small of her back. She exhaled, and only then realized that she was holding her breath.

"All things being equal," her husband whispered, "I'd rather be golfing right now."

"Golfing" was their private codeword for the time that they'd spent in the television world. Rise found that she could hardly disagree.

"I take back everything I said earlier." Rise backed a step into him. "Get us out of here."

"Uh-uh. You still have a set to perform." Souji looked back towards the approaching Kirijo, who was halted every two steps in order to pay respects to some investor or business associate. "Besides, Naoto would murder us if we didn't take this opportunity to feel out her Great White Whale."

"You're terrifying when you're fearless." She took his hand. "Also adorable. But this one looks like she could cast a Thousand Curses." Which was something that they did _not_ joke about, and so Souji gave her a worried glance, but she just shrugged at him helplessly.

"Hey. Come on now." He gave her an evil smile. "Don't disappoint Naoto, or she'll tell our secret to Kanji. And then _everyone_ will know. And Teddie will be over every day..."

"Okay! Okay!" She held up her hands in surrender, and that was when Mitsuru found them.

* * *

><p>"I'm calling to apologize." Katsuya diced onions and threw them into the pot. "I've been a damned fool, and you've had to put up with it."<p>

"It's not all as bad as you make it out to be." Maki's voice was calm and assured on the other end. "Are you repairing things with your brother, then?"

"He's dozing on my couch right now, with a cat on top of his head." He rummaged through one of the cabinets for the small set of western spices he'd bought. "Lucky bastard doesn't have to dope himself up twelve ways just to pet the thing."

She chuckled. "I know that I don't have to tell you this, but one epiphany doesn't make the feelings go away. You'll find that as you go on, you'll feel that way again, and you shouldn't hesitate to call me."

"Yeah." He sipped at the sauce. "Thanks." He clicked the phone off, and threw a wooden spoon at Tatsuya's rear end, which was jutting upward.

"Eh? Whuzzat?"

"Dinner's ready. Clean yourself up, and quit embarrassing me."

* * *

><p>Taro Namatame lay still, and awaited death.<p>

He should be so lucky, he thought; he'd avoided it so many times by now that it was a sick cosmic joke. At first, it was little things, like just barely avoiding getting hit by a car when he was a child. His former employer the councilman running late at the Diet building, and their missing a flight that crashed. In retrospect, these coincidences (_were_ they?) couldn't help but strengthen his delusion that he'd been chosen as a savior, a delusion that no amount of regret would wipe away.

He'd almost killed himself, when Mayumi left him. He'd been in the drunken stupor to end them all, that night, and he nearly opened up his wrists in the bathtub, to save everyone the hassle. What had stopped him was the rumor about the television coming true a second time. He saw the girl, Saki Konishi, and he thought that he could rescue her, make up for everything that had happened. Cheating on his wife, Mayumi's death... he found a strength inside him that he hadn't known was there. When he'd called the police, the officer on the other end of the line had all but told him to go through with it; what was there to stop him?

And then he'd taken his own trip inside the television, the struggling Nanako Dojima in his arms. He should have died then, too. Ripped limb from limb by the monsters. But he'd found he had power, there. First strength, and then power. It was no wonder that Namatame had thought that destiny had laid the road out for him. And he should have died when the kids came for him, with their own powers. The doubt that they'd laid in his heart.

He'd tried to throw himself out the window, when Nanako's father had come to his door. But he was prevented from doing so, by the same kids; the same kids who then argued over whether to throw him back inside the television, to what would surely be a more fatal trip than his last. But if there was a God, He wanted Taro Namatame to suffer, and the decision was made to let him live.

But all of those paled in comparison to when the other detective came, the one he knew from that fated phone call. That was surely when he should have died. Detective Adachi's face had looked worse than any Shadow inside the television, a horrible smile as he lifted the pillow to put it over Namatame's face. Taro didn't struggle. He'd figured it was only fair. But a nurse came to the door, and so Adachi had signed his transfer papers.

Namatame didn't argue at his hearing. He told the complete truth. But the statements about other realities and monsters within the television left the court convinced that he was mad. And he probably was. They sentenced him to Morimoto Sanitarium, and locked him away in a white room. This one didn't have a large-screen TV. It didn't have anything but a hospital bed and equal visits from doctors and security.

And so he lay there, day after day, for years, waiting for death to finally come for him. Ever scared that in the end, he might live forever. His life and soul were already forfeit; it would only be right for him to suffer eternally.

And perhaps he was right, and perhaps he was wrong, but something very different happened instead.

There was a sound like breaking glass, and then the unmistakable thumps and slams of violence down the hall. At first, Namatame stayed in his bed; it was a psychiatric hospital, after all, and sometimes patients got out of control. But the scuffle was too big, too loud, to be just one or two unruly men. And so he slowly climbed up to his knees, looking out the window in his door. He saw one of the guards run past, only to drop suddenly as though he'd been shot. He got up quickly, stumbling in his paper slippers, and pressed up to the door. His breath began to fog up the window even as he saw a second shot embed itself in the wall opposite him. He squinted, and saw what wasn't a bullet at all, but a bottle cap, jammed into the wall hard enough to leave long, splintery cracks.

And then the door was forced open, and he was falling backwards. Before he landed, he felt a burly arm wrap around his midsection and a second pair of hands was forcing a thick bag around his head and shoulders. As everything went dark, he had the sense of mind to wonder in awe that there _was_, in fact, a far more appropriate and ironic punishment available to him for his sins.

* * *

><p>The night was cold; Rise immediately rubbed at her arms when the three of them stepped out on the balcony. But Mitsuru had not felt cold much at all, since her first trip into the lobby of Tartarus, when her Persona awakened.<p>

Souji Seta crossed his arms and looked at her with an expression that she remembered. It was Minato's blank-faced stare, taking in more than she ever could.

"Well," he said, "You have us at your mercy."

The three Persona-users faced off on the balcony as the party continued inside.

"I suppose that I should start by confirming what we both know." Mitsuru flicked a lock of hair out of her face. "Which is to say, what really happened in the town of Inaba at the time of the Hanged Man Killings."

Souji Seta was again surrounded by beautiful women. This time, one of them was his wife; it was the other one that made him want to escape. He saw two dialogue choices laid before him—pleading ignorance and fessing up—which were both going to lead to the same result. He wasn't really thinking about either of them: oddly, he was thinking about Yosuke Hanamura.

A long time ago, Igor had promised him that the bonds that he'd forged would remain forever—bonds that "could not be broken." And yet, in the time since the battle with Izanami, things had fallen into, let's say, serious disrepair. Souji's marriage was blissfully happy, it was true, and his extended family in Inaba were as close to him, and to each other, as they'd ever been. But the further afield he went, the more everyone had grown apart.

It had happened, some part of him knew, when he'd decided to marry Rise. Until then, even with the physical distance between some of them, everything had held in the same loose balance that it always had. But once he'd acted on the desires of his heart, people had begun making choices. Some, like Kanji and Naoto, were both obvious and safe. Others were not so much at all. And Souji thought about Yosuke, and felt very, very guilty for something that he knew wasn't really his own fault at all.

It didn't make sense, that things would be so stable in high school, of all places. There was a period during that time, Souji knew, when he was all but toying with the affections of many girls. He had been young, and stressed to the point of desperation, and feeling like so much offal, cast away by parents too busy to attend to their own son. But through all of that, everyone smiled, took it in stride, and the social links that he'd formed kept moving forward a step at a time. Maybe it had been the drive to catch the killer that had held them together, and without that as a unifying force... sometimes Souji thought of Margaret, who had told him of another boy, a boy that her sister had loved, whose fate had ended very differently, and he almost envied that boy.

And now the last thing to fall apart, the secrecy that they'd kept, shattering to pieces in the hands of this woman, a woman that he knew had something weighing upon her even as she leaned on them, and on Naoto. He opened his mouth to speak. It didn't matter what he was going to say, anyway.

Kirijo's phone rang.

She held up one finger, turned away, and looked at the caller ID. "One moment." She put the phone to her head, smiling slightly. "I didn't think you'd call me." Her warm voice, combined with the spectacle earlier, left few doubts as to who must be on the other end of the line. But then her face fell. "What?"

Rise edged up to Souji, and he put his arm around her. Something was very wrong.

"What do you mean, you've _lost_ him? He's..." Her hair fell back over one eye. "I'm with Subject 4A right now, actually. Yes, like we'd discussed. This is absurd, Kei, 4B wouldn't escape on his... _taken_?" Her confusion was making _everyone_ edgy. Rise's grabbed onto Souji's hand. "You're telling me that someone actively tried to..." She looked up into the night sky. "Is 4C secure? Well, _figure it out_, Kei, you know he's the most dangerous... Don't _snap at me_!" Her eyes could raze whole cities. "We'll talk about this later, I have... Yes, exactly. Report to me as _soon_ as you... I know. I know." She hung up, and looked at the couple once again.

Souji was breathing heavily. "Which one is which?"

She looked uncertain. "I'm not sure that..."

"Which one is _which_, Kirijo?" Souji grabbed the rail of the balcony with his free hand. "Which one was taken?"

* * *

><p>It took time to get the clearance to visit him at the prison. He was an embarrassment to the police force, after all, and so they'd stuck him in a hole so deep that only a select few could even find him in the records. It took the clout that their corporations had with the government to make a "drop-in visit" of the sort that they were proposing.<p>

And so by the time that Kei had gotten people down there, it was too late.

The Nanjou Group representatives were still in the waiting room when the guard went to open his cell. There was a burnt out fluorescent in that hall, and so at first the guard could not see through the shadows of the cell. It was only when the door slid open and the guard stepped inside that the body of Tohru Adachi was found, apparently having hung himself with his own bedsheets.

* * *

><p>Mitsuru looked at the two other people on the balcony and sighed.<p>

_Takeharu Kirijo turned and stared down the Ergo Division Scientist, cradling his daughter in his arms. "Why are you so happy about it! Now... Mitsuru can never escape from the destiny of atonement... She'll spend her life bound to our cursed legacy, when she should be finding her own way. What's so bright about that...?"  
><em>

_Mitsuru weakly reached up and touched her father's face. "Don't worry, Father... I chose this for myself... I'll protect you... Father..."_

She had vowed not to make the same mistakes. That she wouldn't let anyone else get hurt, the way that she and her friends had been hurt. That nobody else would be lost, the way that Minato and Shinjiro, and her father and Takeba's, had all been lost. That she would complete her father's vow to use the Kirijo Group's assets to make the world a better place, to atone for what it had done.

In the end, she knew, she hadn't done a very good job of it. They'd staunched the bleeding quickly in Antarctica, and they'd been able to supply aid in France, and the UK, and other places. But the Tokyo Lockdown had been the clearest sign. She couldn't do it. Not enough, never enough. And now the worst was happening – somebody, or something, that knew the identities of Persona-users was making their move. A part of her wanted to blame Ken Amada, or Naoto Shirogane, but she blamed herself.

She pressed a stud on her bracelet. "Code Black. Be careful with the secondary asset, she's fragile."

"What-" But Souji had barely gotten it out, when the operatives appeared from everywhere. The people at the gala, save one, barely had time to notice before the two Persona-users were subdued and spirited away. Without a Persona, without a weapon, not even Souji could fight them all off, not without endangering Rise. And so the two of them were scooped up like party favors.

The one who did notice, though, tried to push her way through the crowd to get to the balcony. Mitsuru saw her and flicked her hair. She raised her hand in the motion of a fencing salute, and followed her operatives down the rope from the balcony. By the time Elly had reached them, the rope had been released and there was no sign that any of the three people had been there.

The gossip columns would have a field day with Rise missing her set, but she was a temperamental pop idol. The only person who'd expect an immediate check-in would be Inoue-san, her manager, and he was already being attended to. Elly could take it up with Kei. Mitsuru had bigger things to worry about.

If there was going to be a war, she'd assure that humanity won it.

* * *

><p>The three of them met in the bar, and Tatsuya slid in next to his brother. Katsuya cracked his knuckles and watched as Kurosawa laid out three shots.<p>

"So."

Kurosawa closed his eyes. "I was half-convinced that you were going to give this up."

"No, I think I have a better idea." He glanced at his brother, and then back to his friend. "I think we need to widen the circle." And he knew the two officers to ask.

* * *

><p>Karukozaka High School, late at night. Baofu slammed the car door and looked around. The moon was lost behind a cloud and the stars were nowhere to be seen, but Baofu did not remove his dark glasses. Ulala cast one last uneasy glance at the large sack in the back of the car and got out herself.<p>

"I don't like this." The parking lot was empty. If they were supposed to meet their contact here, it didn't look like they'd arrived yet. "It's starting to smell real funny."

"I think that was the guy." Baofu inclined his head towards the car. "I think he wet himself."

"Don't be _you_, just for a minute here." Ulala flexed her fingers, and then curled them into fists. "Maya said that we'd pass him on and be home clear. So where's the mystery girl acting on her behalf?"

"Damned Kuzunoha bullshit. Again." Baofu flipped a coin into the air and caught it. "That was supposed to be a _stealth_ mission, you know."

"You're one to talk." She shook her head. "That went south real fast. This whole thing's starting to feel like a set-up." But it couldn't have been anyone but Maya on the other end of that phone call. Ulala threw a few punches into the air. "Do you think-"

Baofu held up a hand to silence her. There was a figure approaching from the shadows, half-hidden by a thick tree at the edge of the school grounds. A few steps further, and it was clearly a girl not that much younger than themselves. She held up a hand, herself, and looked around.

"Are you alone?" She cast one last glance behind her and then stepped into the view cast by the car's headlights.

Baofu frowned. "Wait. I know you."

"We both do." Ulala frowned.

Tamaki Uchida held a hand before her face to block out the light. "We can't stay here. You were probably followed." The Devil Summoner craned her neck to look into the car. "You have him?"

"Not until we get some damned answers." Baofu took a step forward, but Ulala grabbed his sleeve.

"You've helped us before. Right? Sometimes my memory goes a little fuzzy about those days, but you were one of them. Why did we have to go back to _that place_ and take this guy?"

"It's not safe for him." She shook her head. "Look, I'll explain on the way. We have to move. They've..." Her face grew pained. "They've already killed my husband. Killed everyone."

"What? Who?" Ulala held out her arms. "Who did? And who said we were going anywhere with you? That wasn't part of the deal!"

Tamaki didn't answer. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but only blood came out. As she fell to the ground, Baofu and Ulala naturally moved to put their backs together, but there wasn't so much as a sound.

"Get in the car and be ready to split." Baofu hissed. Then they moved, Ulala jumping in through the car window and Baofu grabbing up Tamaki's body. She spun the car around him and flung the door open so that he could dive in with the body, and the car took off.

Tamaki was still alive, but only barely. She was mumbling something to herself. "_Flowing pure, the Kanda River looks up to sacred Mt. Fuji from afarrrrrr..._"

As they sped down the street, Baofu searched Tamaki's body for any sign of a wound, but there was none. All he found was a folded sheet of paper tucked into her sweater, bearing instructions.

"_Gather 'round, O youth with bravest heaaaarrts, gather 'round, and sing out proud..._"

Ulala had her foot stomped down on the gas. Baofu was slapping Tamaki's bloody and tear-stained cheeks. "C'mon, girl, don't give up on us, here, what the Hell is going on?"

Her voice was so weak, like a whisper. "_Karu High, Karu High, Karukozaka..._" Cough. "_High Schooooooooool!_" And then... nothing.

Tamaki Uchida, the first Persona-user, was dead. She had been a Devil Summoner, a Detective, a student, a wife, a friend. She had been the place where it had all began.

Somewhere, somewhen, somehow, a familiar face watched the two sleuths escape with their kidnapping victim and the corpse that they had inherited, and smiled. War had been officially declared. Humanity's time was now marked in weeks.

* * *

><p>They stared at each other, on her doorstep.<p>

The first place Yukari's eyes traveled, when she had the wherewithal to move her eyes at all, was to his hands, shoved deep in his pockets. The way they'd always been.

He looked like he had that day. Like he always had. And some part of her, deep down, realized with horror that she did not. That she had grown old without him in her life, and it was an old Yukari Takeba that was looking at the miracle, was being looked at from beneath and through a _shoji_ screen of dark hair. Twelve _years_...

"Is it... 2011?" Minato mumbled.

"What?" Yukari started to reach out. "What... no... it's..."

"Time... time dilation... it should be..." And Minato Arisato faltered, swaying ever so slightly, and then his eyes rolled back and he passed out into Yukari's arms.


	10. What the Butler Saw

**-2009-**

Everyone sat in the dormitory lounge, looking for something to say.

Koromaru had trotted off with Mitsuru and Akihiko. That wasn't that strange, really. The dog had loved Shinjiro Aragaki as much or more than just about everyone. Nobody had ever seen such a weight reflected in an animal's face before. Aigis had whispered into his ear briefly, and then the two senpai had left with the dog in tow.

They were going to take care of the body. Nobody else had the guts, or the presumption, to go along with them. Junpei had cast one look towards Minato, who'd slowly shaken his head, and they'd watched them go.

Ken hadn't come back, yet. Everything had happened so fast, that nobody had yet gone to look for him. Minato didn't seem too worried, so they chose not to be, either. But then, Minato didn't look to be much of anything but tired. He kept zoning off, staring at patterns in the wallpaper for long periods of time. It wasn't like how he faded out in the lobby of Tartarus; it was just a slow shutdown of... caring, maybe. It had been his first failure. Yukari kept casting him glances, but didn't go to him.

Finally, Fuuka said something about a strong headache and wandered out of the lounge. It was only the original three members of the Tartarus Exploration Team, and Aigis, who seemed a little confused. The air felt thick.

"I could... go get some drinks from the machine upstairs." Junpei took off his cap and scratched at his head. The others didn't seem to excited by the idea. "You know what, nevermind..."

Aigis slowly loped over with her awkward gait and sat down in one of the chairs. She so rarely bothered to sit down when she didn't have to that the others turned out of habit to look. She smoothed out the skirt of her school uniform and frowned slightly.

"Permit me to ask a question." Yukari was already wincing and rolling her eyes, but the boys each nodded slowly. "Shinjiro-san left his usual body armor, axe, and other equipment here at the dormitory building when he went to the arranged meeting behind the station. Given his awareness of Ken's anger, does this not mean that he wished to die?"

Junpei gaped, and Yukari reared back as if to slap the android, but Minato spoke before she could get the chance.

"I... can't accept that, Aigis." Minato looked... he looked _dry_, like he was being slowly mummified before them. He spoke haltingly, and unsure. "I... I understand why you say that. But I _can't_ accept it. I refuse to believe that people want death."

Yukari slumped. "Minato-kun..."

"No." He shook his head. "Death is... it's too big. I _won't_ accept it. He... he didn't know _what_ he really wanted. I refuse to believe that you all... I..." His face cracked. "I'm... going to my room." He stood, and his hands hung limply, out of his pockets, as he walked up the stairs.

"What was that about?" Junpei looked to Yukari, who was shaking her head. Neither of them saw Aigis's face, as she attempted to process the reaction of the boy she had sworn to protect. Facts lined up ever so briefly, seemed to route towards corrupted memory cells, and then collapsed into fault errors and stack overflows. She couldn't understand what she was thinking, which was an unusual feeling for an artificial intelligence. It was as if there was a truth there, just out of reach.

Not even Aigis understood why she felt so drawn to Minato Arisato. She felt as if there was a great Answer to her existence, and if she could only see it, those long-damaged parts of herself might reawaken. Perhaps then, she naively believed, she might be worthy of his attention.

Minato made it up to his room, shut the door, and then the tears came. His body shook, and he ripped the calendar from his wall, throwing it across the small dorm room in impotent fury before collapsing to his bed. He was asleep before he realized what was happening. He had no way of framing his guilt and his grief for others to understand. All the worse because some part of him had known that this outcome had been inevitable from the beginning. Like Shinjiro's life was an arrow fired from long ago, and it had only just now struck home.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Seven: What the Butler Saw**

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

_...You can go where you want to go_

_(You gotta change the way you live)  
>Be who you want to be<br>Think confident, think positive..._

"Hello, ma'am." Reiji Kido, with an ugly comb-forward haircut and a sour-looking tie, tried to slip his foot between the door and the frame before she could close it in his face. "I'm here to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity, that's going to change your world forever."

The woman looked at Reiji and stiffened, as though his very aura was knocking her back. "This isn't a religious thing, is it?"

Reiji laughed, poorly. "No, ma'am. Although, when you see what these knives will do in _your_ kitchen, you might just think you've found Heaven itself."

The door slammed hard on his foot. He cursed and pulled his leg back, falling backwards into a bush. His sample case landed square on his nose.

* * *

><p>"Akihiko..." Chie Satonaka ran after her partner – her boyfriend – as he stormed out of the police station. "Hey, wait!" She winced as Officer Sanada punched a nearby lamppost, and made a solid dent in the metal. "Aki, come on, don't be that guy. Talk to me, already."<p>

His shoulders raised and lowered, again and again. She didn't reach out for him; she already knew him better than that. She just jammed her hands into her pockets and waited him out. Finally, he turned and offered her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. I just... I need some time to think. Alone."

She shook her head. "Partners, remember? This affects both of us."

That might have been the wrong thing to say. He scrunched up his face and looked away. "Give me a few hours. I'll meet you at the beef bowl place tonight at nine, okay?"

That was as good as she was going to get. She sighed.

"Don't do anything stupid, okay?" But he was already in the car and pulling out of the station parking lot.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Shinjiro reeled back as the bullet hit. It felt less like a pierce, and more like an explosion—the result of a silver pocketwatch shattering upon impact. Even as he flew backwards the realization came to him, and then, oddly, the beginnings of a joke. Having more time, killing time... something-something. Hamuko would be able to figure out the right wordplay, she was the clever one.

The watch didn't stop the bullet, Takaya's pistol was a very high caliber and the shot came from a very close range, but it slowed the bullet considerably. Of course, now there was also the shrapnel, pieces of silver tearing into him... his wild hair, Miki had always called him a werewolf. And then he cracked his head pretty hard when he landed.

What caused the coma, exactly? The doctors weren't one hundred percent sure. The trauma of surgery—it took some time to get him operated on, as the gunshot occurred during the Dark Hour—or perhaps their painkillers conflicted with whatever had been in his body, that the toxicology report could not identify. They didn't know anything about Kirijo Group suppressant drugs, they didn't even see what Chidori was popping into her mouth whenever the doctors leaved her alone. An argument was made, however, that the brain was just choosing not to respond. People had to fight to live, after major trauma, and it seemed as though Shinjiro was choosing not to fight at all.

* * *

><p><strong>-1995-<strong>

Reiji Kido had barely started high school, and he was already sitting in a police station in handcuffs.

It had been a... well, Reiji used the word "disagreement" when he spoke with the cop, a stuffy new guy called Kurosawa. Some kids had been teasing him, comparing him to his smarter, better-looking stepbrother. So he'd beaten them to bloody pulps. It was nothing to worry about, he argued. The cop looked ready to turn the violence right around to Reiji, which suited him fine.

As his mother was called, he looked down at his fists, which still had traces of blood. Part of him was pleased; the other part decidedly less so.

On the way back home, his mother talked about transferring him to another school. Which was a nice way of saying "get the embarrassment out of their hair." That suited him fine, too. He didn't need her (Didn't she know he was doing it all for her?). Let him forge his own path (He loved her). He'd bust up anyone who got in his way, if he had to.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

Shinjiro was in his usual place, loitering by the back door, when Minato found him. He always looked ready to bolt out that door when everyone turned their backs. Minato didn't like it, especially, but he hadn't found a way to connect with Shinjiro, not yet. The older boy seemed unusually perceptive, calling Minato on his frequent silences, things like that. He fought well for SEES, but he didn't seem interested in opening up. Compared to the many social links that Minato had formed, Shinjiro Aragaki was a logic problem that he hadn't been able to solve.

"Tomorrow's the big day." Shinjiro crossed his arms and looked at the younger leader. "You ready?"

Minato nodded, and Shinjiro clucked his tongue. When the leader of SEES turned to walk away, though, Shinji frowned. "Hey." The boy turned. "What are you going to do, when this is all over?"

The boy's eyes were hidden behind that damned hair again. He mumbled, "I hadn't really thought about it." But then he looked up, searching. "How about you?"

"Tch. Never mind." Shinji turned away. He wouldn't have to deal with this for much longer.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Akihiko drove around for at least thirty minutes, aimlessly, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, before he finally sighed and picked a destination. It was, he supposed, a bit of denial on his part. It had been obvious from the beginning where he would go.

The cemetery looked much as it had the last time that he'd visited – it hadn't been very long. He tried to keep his visits to once a year, the better to look forward, rather than back. But this was different. What he was being asked to do... he felt all the worse for feeling that this moment had been coming for years.

The cold wind was picking up, and Aki actually had to pull on the coat that he was usually toting around over his shoulder. It was then that he noticed that somebody was standing by Shinji's gravestone. It was a man in an ill-fitting business suit. He eased closer slowly. Not that many people would come to visit Shinjiro Aragaki, and he knew pretty much all of them personally.

When the man turned to look at him with a sad smile, he was shocked to find that this, too, was someone he knew. Reiji Kido offered a wavering bow. "Hello, Aki. You've grown up."

"Kido-sensei..." Akihiko gave a long, low formal bow. "I haven't seen you in..."

"A lifetime?" Reiji looked at the gravestone. "I'm sorry about Shinji. I wish I could have..." He let his shoulders droop. "How are you?"

Aki didn't have the words. He looked at Shinji's stone, and back at Reiji. "Do you want to go somewhere?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Hamuko wrapped Shinjiro's fingers around the pocket watch. He stared at her, and she just smiled, like she always did.

The smile was half-bullshit most of the time, and he knew it. These people couldn't use the toilet without asking for her orders, and yet not a one of them stopped to ask how _she_ was doing. Kirijo, the idiot in the baseball cap, even Akihiko, who was leading her around by the nose and didn't even realize it. She had come to _him_, asked him what to do about Aki, and it had made him want to laugh.

Shinji wasn't the sort of person who'd deliberately steal a woman from his best friend, but things were progressing so quickly that not even he had realized what was going on until he was wrapped around her finger. What had he endured for her sake? Wearing a tuxedo into Tartarus, that had probably been the worst of it. Some long-dormant part of him had been flattered, yeah, and felt warmed by it. But then he'd seen that she'd wheedled the rest of the guys into doing the same thing, and Takeba had slapped a wad of yen into her hand.

He tried not to think about most of it too much, or he'd crack. He already saw how Ken followed her around, all but floating in the air. The damned kid was going to break her heart when she found out about why he'd signed on in the first place. Tomorrow. That was going to be the day. And if Ken was going to break her heart, what was _he_ going to do to her?

Better to pretend that they didn't give each other the same looks across the dorm room lounge. Better to keep hiding by the exit, in the dark, where the others couldn't see him watch her every move. Better to get tomorrow over with, so that the guilt would leave him alone.

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

_...Power is the Reason_

_Why we all are fighting hard_

_Control your body, your soul, and heart_

_Yes, some of us who quit are like lambs to the slaughter_

_Lets try harder to reach the next stage..._

It wasn't long after Reiji's transfer to St. Hermelin before he'd gotten himself in trouble again. This time, the police and the juvenile courts offered him an option to keep his record clean. Service work wasn't exactly Reiji's idea of a good time, but given the choices in front of him, he decided to take the lesser of two evils.

Which is how he'd check in with an officer once a week and bus over to an orphanage and help out. At first, they tried to get him to work with little kids, finger-painting and every other thing. _That_ didn't work out. But a couple of the older kids got a look at his sculpted abdominals on a hot day on the small basketball court behind the building, and asked him if he knew how to fight. Soon, he was talking to the administration to hash out a program where he could do something to help that might not be so bad.

Self-defense was not, exactly, something that the orphanage wanted to promote in practice – some of the boys were too violent as it is – but enough people saw the benefit to providing a positive outlet for aggression that he was allowed to teach an informal class (under heavy supervision). Soon, basic lessons gave way to more formal boxing and wrestling matches, usually with duct-taped and ragged equipment.

It wasn't long before Reiji had two students who stood far above the others in raw skill—and aggression. That was how he got to know the young Akihiko Sanada and Shinjiro Aragaki.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Akihiko and Reiji stood outside the orphanage, not looking at each other.

"Been a while since I came here." Aki grimaced. It had been rebuilt many years back, after Akihiko had left it behind—this he'd known. That the building looked so similar to how it used to, _that_ he hadn't really expected. It was a ghost place, like Tartarus. Just being near it made him feel small again.

"Longer for me, obviously." Reiji wiped at his nose. "Let's go around back."

The old basketball court was there, still, though it was in, to put it mildly, a bit of disrepair. Aki winced. He should have asked Mitsuru to put some money into the old place, but he'd spent so much time trying to forget about it.

"I'll tell you, back then, I think I hated being here as much as you kids did." Reiji smiled, his tie flapping in the wind. "Now I kind of miss it."

Akihiko had so much he wanted to ask Reiji Kido, about what to do, what to feel. Instead, he just watched the older man nose his way around the orphanage grounds.

"I'd be a pretty big league dick if I claimed that it was all bad." Reiji toed at some weeds peeking up from the asphalt. "But a lot of it's been a waking nightmare."

"I know what that's like." Akihiko approached him, coughing once. "I hate to think what Shinji and I would've been like, though, if you hadn't been here."

* * *

><p><strong>-2006-<strong>

In Akihiko Sanada's last year of middle school, a beautiful girl came up to him and made an offer that he couldn't refuse.

He'd gotten a lot of "offers" since becoming the school's prize boxing champion. But this wasn't like the others, from insipid and callow girls who didn't see much to him besides a pair of arms. This was not an offer to date, or to "hang out," or any other kind of vague suggestion that had to do with their being seen with him in public.

This girl, instead, handed him a gun.

"You said you wanted to build your strength. What you really need is a riskier challenge. And with this, you can challenge 'them'..." Young Mitsuru Kirijo pressed the gun into his palm, flipped her curly hair with one hand, and walked away without giving him a second glance.

Aki looked at the gun for a long moment. It was lighter, didn't feel like he'd imagine a gun would feel. And he'd never thought he'd use a gun in the first place. But when noises down the hall heralded the return of the other students, he palmed the weapon and slipped it into his pocket.

That decision was the first time that he heard the whispered voice, the one that he'd later recognize as Polydeuces. It was a voice that he only barely realized that he'd heard, folding himself back into the crowd of cheering kids and letting them carry him back outside, where a familiar boy was skulking beneath a tree and looking at the stars.

"Hey." Akihiko kicked him, ignoring the other students. "You see that fight?"

"Whatever." Shinjiro shrugged. "You want a real match, you know where to find me."

Aki chuckled, but in the next moment he realized that he now had a secret, burning away in his pocket at that moment, and no idea what to do about his best and only friend.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Hamuko sat down next to the hospital bed. She was determined not to cry.

"I tried to think of something that you'd actually appreciate." She rubbed at her nose. "Or, at least, that you'd admit to appreciating." This was the first day since Shinjiro had been admitted to the hospital that she'd been able to get some time alone. Akihiko was there constantly; which was understandable, but she'd wanted, needed, time alone with him. "I figured that if I did things like read to you, or tell you about funny stuff that happened at the dorm, you'd probably roll your eyes at me." She sighed. "If you could. I'm probably going to do that stuff anyway—you can't stop me, after all—but, just this first time, I really wanted to..."

She took a deep breath. This wasn't "hard," this was agonizing. It was so unfair. And she knew damned well what the end of the story was. Even if he woke up... how much longer did he have? Hamuko didn't know. It could be ten years, but it probably wasn't. It probably wasn't _one_ year.

"Yeah, so..." She unwrapped the parcel that she'd brought in. "I tried to think of what you'd appreciate. Like I said. And then I realized that I wasn't exactly sure what we had in common. Doesn't that sound stupid? After all of this time. Knowing how we feel. We both like cooking... and we both have a thing for exotic coffee... but, well, not much that I can do with that in the hospital, huh?" She placed the unwrapped box in her lap. "You knew all of this already, I know. You tried to get me to see it. Thing is, you didn't expect me to be so stubborn, did you?"

She opened the box and took out an MP3 player of the same model of her own, in a burnished silver. "Stubborn, and resourceful. See, that's what I figured out, while I was worrying about all of this. What did it meeeaaan, you know?" She clipped the headphones over his ears. "We have more in common than you think, Shinji. I know..." She sniffed, just a little. "I know we don't have that much time. You've pounded it into my head over and over. But I've met a lot of people this year. And... it's like they've all been teaching me the same lesson."

She fumbled a little with the player's controls. "You're such a meathead. You think we couldn't figure out what you were doing at that club? Like I wouldn't have gone with you in an instant. Big macho jerk." She turned the player on—it was full of pre-purchased songs: the collected discography of Risette. "Every one of them, Shinji... They've been teaching me to accept that people have to go. But... you don't have to go _yet_." She wiped at her eyes and stood up. "I'm going to be here when you wake up. I promise."

_...I hear a voice that causes me to not give up  
>And go on all sort of paths<em>

_You hear a voice that causes your heart to say stay by my side  
>So that we can catch hold of our dreams<em>

_We've never noticed it, our dreams are within our reality  
>When we finally did, we had already become adults<em>

_As we pursued our hopes and dreams, there were many sad moments  
>But we overcame it all and managed to smile...<em>

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

Reiji watched as a young Akihiko swung with a loose arm, which Shinjiro easily batted away. The other boy had Aki's Featherman figure, and was holding it up just out of Aki's reach.

"Akihiko." Reiji waved him over. The young boy cast a dark glare at Shinjiro before stalking over to the teenager. "Your punches suck."

"He's stronger than me." Aki muttered it so that his friend (?) couldn't hear. "I just have to get stronger."

"Yeah, he's stronger than you, but Shinji uses his size more than his strength. He doesn't know jack about how to fight, either, but when two people don't know, the bigger guy's always gonna win." Reiji spit in the grass. "Okay, look. You want to be a better fighter, right?" The boy nodded. "Watch my hands."

Reiji took a deck of playing cards out of his jacket, and began shuffling them. The boy looked confused, but settled back and watched obediently as Reiji bridged the cards from one hand to the other, and then cut the deck with only two fingers. Without looking at the deck, he flicked the middle and a card popped out for Akihiko to remove. "Two of clubs, right?"

Shinjiro had come over to watch as well. "You stacked the deck."

Reiji grinned. "Okay, tough guy, you shuffle it yourself." He handed the deck to the boy in the dark beanie cap, who awkwardly shuffled all of the cards together. "Now, Aki here is looking at me like I'm an idiot." The younger boy blushed. "And that's cool, because I could crush him with one hand. But he's doing it because he doesn't know what this has to do with fighting. Do you?"

Shinji shook his head, handing the deck back.

"Then you should pay attention, too, because I'm about to school you both." He shuffled the deck again himself, and then flicked out a card. Shinji took it. "Two of clubs?"

Akihiko frowned. "Wait. You're using math. I saw this on television. You count the cards, or..."

"Do I look like I know math?" Reiji rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Fine. One more time. Here." He pointed to the card in Shinji's hand. "Hold on to that." He shuffled the cards, and flicked one out. Aki took it. "Two of clubs?"

"Tch." Shinjiro flicked his card back at Reiji. "This is stupid. What does this have to do with fighting?"

Reiji turned to Akihiko. "Were you watching my hands?"

"Uh." Akihiko looked down at his card.

"Look. You kids are killin' me. I'm tryin' to teach you something, here." He crouched down to meet them eye-to-eye. "There's like forty lessons in here." He sighed. "Okay. Here's the first one: when you're fighting someone, you watch them, and you watch yourself. It's too easy to stop paying attention to that stuff once you start swinging, but a _good_ fighter can see the swing before the arm starts to move. You follow me?" They nodded uneasily. "But that's not the real one I'm getting at here. The point is, you guys saw me punch through boards the other day. But what I'm doing here isn't strength. Do you have to be strong? Hell yeah. But I can move my fingers like a freakin' piano player, and that's because fighting is also about finesse. You've gotta be in control of your every movement."

He grabbed the two boys and rotated them so that they faced each other, an arm's length apart. "Okay, Aki. Punch Shinjiro, but do it really slowly. Like you're underwater, or in a movie." Akihiko slowly raised his fist. "See? You're only workin' your arm. You're not paying attention to the rest of your body and what it's tellin' you." He grabbed Akihiko's arm, and guided it slowly towards Shinjiro, moving the rest of him with his other hand. "Throw your hip and shoulder into the punch, and your whole weight goes with it. Keep your wrist in the right position, or the punch buckles. You see?"

Akihiko's eyes were wide, like a fundamental mystery had been solved for him.

"Okay, now punch the palm of my hand, for real, like you're trying to bust my face open." Aki channeled power into his punch, launching it dead center for Reiji's hand. "Okay, better. Your feet aren't right, I can grab your wrist and topple you over like a clown. But you're getting it." He rubbed at his face and looked at both boys. "Strength ain't anything if you don't know what to do with it."

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (Timeline B-AB?)-<strong>

In his coma, Shinjiro Aragaki experienced many things. Many overlapped, and there's not much to be said for chronology in a fever dream, but if there was a "first," then it was probably memories.

Shinji remembered his first meeting with Strega. It happened in the obvious place; Shinji was perched on top of the railing behind the Port Island Station, sharing a smoke with some idiot punks by the Mahjong place. It was the rare instance when Jin and Chidori had come out separately from Takaya (who was, apparently, in his own drug fugue that night).

Jin was looking for something, or someone. Chidori, as would become the usual, didn't seem to care where she was or what she was doing. Shinji knew that look on girl's faces, he'd seen it at the orphanage and he'd seen it since then. Some part of him wanted to slam Jin into a trash can and make Chidori go get help... but he had a hard time caring about much of anything at that point.

Someone pulled a knife on Chidori, and she looked at it blankly. Jin shortly broke the idiot's arm and scraped his face against a brick wall. Shinjiro didn't care about that. He did, however, sit up slightly so that he could ask the girl a question.

"You're not afraid of dyin', are you?"

It was so matter of fact that Chidori actually bothered to answer him, in an equally even tone. "I have known the day that I would die all my life." She was so serious, and there was something lucid in her eyes, then.

"How?" And it was clear to Jin and Chidori both that he wanted that same ability. Jin nodded to her, and she answered him.

"Medea told me."

And that was how he understood that they were Persona users. He would follow them around, when he could, but it wasn't long before Jin had convinced Takaya that Shinjiro was worth paying attention to. The creepy shirtless bastard studied his face, and agreed to let Jin give him some suppressants. Like manna. And as is the standard, the first hit was free. After that, he became their errand boy—when they remembered that he existed.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Akihiko opened his wallet and handed something to Reiji. It was a creased and faded playing card: the two of clubs.

"I didn't get it, then. Not for a long time, really. Shinjiro didn't, either. But I thought a lot about it, after I got out of the orphanage."

Reiji took the card and stared at it. "Jesus. I didn't think you'd kept it."

"Shinji had his, too. It was the only thing I was able to keep, after..." After the fire. When Miki died. "Whatever happened to you, after you stopped coming to see us? We always wondered. You just vanished."

"I wouldn't know how to begin to explain." Reiji tugged at the basketball hoop, testing its strength.

He remembered Masao (that punk, he'd thought) prying him away from the SEBEC bastards at the blockade. The way that their leader had calmly regarded him, like he was under a microscope. And how after hating all of their guts, he wound up joining them anyway, pledging his life with theirs. Masao, Nanjou, Brown, Ayase... it was a group of freaks, and he was the biggest freak of all. Small wonder they became the only ones who cared. Maki, Yukino, they were always calling after him. Making sure he was all right. He wasn't, really. But he'd made his bed, and he had to lie in it.

"Ah, just a sad old story," he finally said, not looking at Akihiko. "I got a girl pregnant, you know? I say 'girl' like she isn't older than I am." He chuckled. "So now I sell knives."

Akihiko wasn't sure what to say to that. He looked up at the orphanage. It was as if the fire hadn't happened. Like history had been wiped away. He thought of the Abyss of Time. "Things aren't over until you die. There's always time."

Reiji chuckled, and turned back to his old student. "Let's 'think positive,' huh? I've heard that before. Why are you out here alone tonight, Aki? What's up with you?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2007-<strong>

Aki bowed to Shuji Ikutski with narrowed eyes. He didn't trust him.

His distrust didn't last, of course—how could it? Ikutski's facade was perfect in every respect. He was a creep, but in the way that many adults were creeps. He told bad jokes and crashed his bicycle into things, and what's more, he did it when he didn't think other people were around. Within a month and a half, Ikutski was just "The Chairman," the comedy relief of their three-man team.

And comedy relief was sorely needed. The dormitory was a big, empty building, with only two residents. And Akihiko had no idea what he was supposed to say to Mitsuru Kirijo, the prodigy. In those early days, he was in awe of her. Her focus and her strength of purpose.

Mitsuru had three goals, in order: First, to protect her father. Second, to eliminate the Shadows. Third, to become the best at everything she attempted, so that she could find a place for herself when the first two goals were no longer necessary.

Aki, on the other hand, only had one goal—an ill-defined desire to be stronger. That was how she'd won him over, and it wasn't long before he got his first taste of what it would take.

A small Shadow, what they'd later call a Maya, got loose during the Dark Hour, tearing up product in one of the stores in the strip mall. With Ikutski coordinating them over the radio from his place back at the dorm, Mitsuru and Akihiko went out to subdue. Neither of them were fully adept at using their Personas, yet. Mitsuru had been operating on survival instinct, when she was the only one who was battle-capable. There was a lot that they still didn't understand, and Ikutski suggested trying to capture the small, blob-like Shadow for study.

As much as Akihiko wanted to fight, even he had to agree it was a good play. Better that they know its weaknesses, so they could do some real damage later. He'd been taken to the outside gates of the large tower that formed in place of Gekkoukan High School, and he was itching to prowl around inside.

Unfortunately, whatever weaknesses it was that the Maya had, they were not ice or lightning. Even as Akihiko punched the thing square in its mask, electricity coursing through his arm, its other arms were wrapping around his legs, upending him into a stack of crates. He hit his head on something hard and everything sank underwater for a moment, until he heard Mitsuru's scream. She'd tried freezing the Maya whole in a block of ice, and it had punched right through.

Aki struggled to his feet. Some part of him absently noted that Ikutski wasn't saying anything over the radio. What a _big_ help. Probably dozing with a book over his face. He grabbed a clothes rack and shook the garments free. The rack was built in two parts, and when the X-shaped top was removed, the lower half formed a suitable spear. He hoisted it and jammed it hard into the Maya, which Mitsuru was fending off awkwardly with her sword (a flimsy weapon for sporting and old-fashioned honor duels—useless, he grunted to himself)... but the Maya turned around quickly, and the legs of the stand cracked him in the nose.

He thought back to the lessons that Reiji Kido had taught him. The delinquent had only helped at their orphanage for about six months, but he'd taught Aki and Shinji more in that time than they'd learned from anyone else. Or at least, cared to learn. Watch its motions, predict, act accordingly. Be aware of your whole self. He flipped backwards as the Maya reached out for him, and the metal spear jammed in its side tangled with another display of products, holding it just long enough for Mitsuru to spear it a second time with her blade, which was covered in a thick layer of frost.

It was weakening. They might not be fighting it the _right_ way, but they were still winning. Akihiko grabbed onto the metal debris that had impaled the creature and sent more voltage through it, even as he grasped onto its mask and pulled with all of his might. It grabbed his leg again, but this time he was ready—he was pulling _back_, and so all the Shadow was doing was giving him more leverage. Soon enough, the monster ripped apart in a mess of black and red ichor.

Blood painted the walls, thick chunks spattered the store's damaged merchandise... and then all of it began to dissolve, until there was nothing left. The store just looked like it had been looted. Self-cleaning... at least one thing worked in their favor.

Akihiko, though, flopped backwards onto his rear end with nothing holding him up, and stayed there, breathing heavily. Mitsuru was on her knees, massaging her wrist, and (if he wasn't mistaken) trembling, just a little.

"Well..." Her voice was hoarse. "Did you get what you wanted?"

He started laughing.

It broke the ice, at any rate. Akihiko started spending more time in the lounge, watching television or attending to his studies. It wasn't long before Mitsuru did the same. The place was too empty, too lonely, to do much else. At some point, Aki realized that he was taking his classes more seriously than he had at the orphanage. It wasn't hard to pinpoint the reason—Mitsuru was top of her class every time, and after that first battle, the competitive lines had been drawn.

But it was more than that, too. They were the only ones there, and the only ones who knew the truth about the Dark Hour. While they were not friends, they were something closer than that. And neither of them wanted to be unworthy of the other.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Akihiko and Reiji sat on a small bench to one side of the old, burnt-out basketball court and listened to the sounds of the city.

"I'm being asked to choose between two impossible..." He frowned and started again. Reiji, perhaps embarrassed by his story earlier, didn't say anything. "There's what's right, and what might be right. But I have people that I... both sides are like family, or moreso."

Is this, he wondered, what it was like for Aigis? He remembered their battle in the arena. He had dodged bullets on that endless day. See the motions, predict, and act in full knowledge of your body. He had lost. But he'd lost to the one who was doing the right thing.

* * *

><p><strong>-2007-<strong>

Shinjiro stood with his arms crossed and a downright childish... _petulant_ look. "I ain't leaving."

Aki looked from Shinji to Ikutski in horror as the older man made a "hmm" sound. "Well, he does have the potential."

Mitsuru, who seemed ill at ease, placed her teacup on the table and smoothed out her skirt. "But can he even control it? The tests are inconclusive at best..."

"Could control you with the back of my hand, rich girl," Shinji muttered so low that only Akihiko could hear. His horror mounted. This was... this was a _phenomenally_ bad idea. Shinjiro, though, just stuck out his chin in defiance.

He'd barged in one evening without warning, told them that he was on to them. Said he'd seen Akihiko and Mitsuru battling a Shadow by Port Island Station, and that he wanted in. Akihiko hadn't even known that Shinji could experience the Dark Hour, as he had. He did know, however, that he was only doing this because Akihiko was here.

No, it was one thing for Aki to die in battle, but he wasn't going to risk Shinjiro. He'd voice a protest, and...

"All right. Let's try this out for a probationary period." Ikutski sipped his tea and smiled at Akihiko. "I'm sure that you'll be thrilled to have an old friend on the team."

Years later, Akihiko would wonder at the logic of it. Shinjiro would never, in his years on and off with SEES, ever trust Ikutski. And he'd be proven right, in the end, too late for Shinji to do a damned thing about it. But of course the reason was obvious. He'd had years to win Mitsuru's trust. Having Shinjiro in the dorm was the easiest, fastest way to bring Akihiko to heel. And it worked almost instantaneously.

Shinji threw his few things into another room on Akihiko's floor, and slammed the door without talking to his old friend. Aki wound up going up to the roof and shadowboxing for a few hours to burn off his anger. Mitsuru found him up there, and stared at him for a while with crossed arms before going back downstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (Timeline B-AB?)-<strong>

Sometimes, in the coma, Shinjiro would remember things that had not happened. Instead of Hamuko, there was a shifty boy with dark hair, one who walked around with a lazy slouch and kept curled inward even as the women began following after him one by one.

The first time they met, in this dream, Shinjiro stared at the boy, and seemed to find him familiar. The boy made Castor pound against the walls within his own head. It wasn't until the very end, when he was bleeding out and the others arrived too little too late, that he saw what made the boy so familiar. Minato Arisato was death Himself.

What did he see and understand in that moment? Did he get an early glimpse of Ryoji Mochizuki, the Arbiter of Nyx? Did he see the little boy Pharos, sitting on the railing and kicking his legs? Or did he just see a teenager who watched Shinji die slowly, in inches, with a passive look and a dark, deep well within his eyes?

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

They compared photos of their respective domestic partners. Reiji even elbowed Akihiko and gave him an exaggerated wink. There were times when Aki, looking at his old teacher, could sense a darkness that he could not describe. But his Persona had not been an overly sensitive creature – Caesar was made for violence – and Akihiko did not understand that Reiji, too, had a second self, a dark and terrifying one.

Reiji, for his part, could only detect a vague noble aura from his student, and attributed it to Aki being that rare breed, the "good cop."

As Akihiko explained in the loosest and most nonspecific terms the nature of his dilemma, Reiji listened thoughtfully. Aki did _not_ explain that a loose coalition of Persona users had drafted both he and Chie in an attempt to get to the bottom of what Mitsuru and her new fiancée were up to. He did not explain the efforts that he'd expended for years making sure that he _didn't_ know what Mitsuru was _ever_ up to, no matter how often she asked him to be her confidante. He used euphemisms and talked around himself. Somehow, though, he got his point across, and Reiji sat and considered.

And remembered.

* * *

><p>Yukino Mayuzumi's bright yellow Bruce Lee pants crinkled as she crouched down to get a better shot. Her camera clicked a dozen times as Reiji watched her get multiple angles of what looked to be claw marks in the side of a brick building.<p>

"Gee, Yuki," Reiji drawled, "You take me to all the nicest places."

"You've got a great view of my ass from back there, Reiji, so I wouldn't complain." And he did! But he tried to focus on the damage to the wall, instead. It was, without a doubt, the sort of thing that a demon might leave behind.

Yukino had been a _yanki_—a delinquent—when she was younger, which made her by default one of the people in that group that he could tolerate the best. She knew the streets, she knew what it was to be angry, and she knew that being that way didn't make you less human, like a lot of their classmates seemed to think. When he got spotted coming out of the orphanage one day, it had been Yukino who had caught him (thank God), and she'd kept his secret ever since. They hadn't been friends, but there had been a wary respect.

When the Deva System turned on, though, and the demons and the zombies swarmed in, the group of them had become allies, and awkward friendships tended to form in situations like that. Yukino had been in charge of keeping the school safe, and at the time Reiji had figured it was chumpwork, the easy job for a girl who spent her after-school days working at a convenience store in a stupid red suit. But later he found out about the Snow Queen, and everything that had gone down, and he began to see what the rest of them had in her.

She'd always been the team's damned mother, checking their supply kits and ammo boxes, offering soothing words and all that. But she was a hardass, and _that_ was something that he could appreciate. And when things went down again, a few years later, and everyone had to get together to back up the new kids, and he saw how Yukino had grown up... growing her hair out, ditching the skirt... he'd been very impressed.

But he'd already managed to screw up his life in the interim, fathering a child that he wasn't ready for. And maybe things weren't so great with the wife all the time, but he wasn't a cheater. He wouldn't treat his woman like dirt – the way that his own mother had been treated. And so he kept his distance from her, going to help out Maki with the dirty work instead. But Yukino singled him out at the reunion, bought him drinks, made him laugh, made him promise to call her.

For the most part, though, these "dates" had been a little small talk—Yukino kept up with most of the others, so she could answer his curiosity without his having to subject himself to abuse from guys like Masao or Kei, or endure swooning and pathological lying from Ayase—and then trips like this, investigating weird stuff that could end up being demon-related.

Usually, it wasn't. But they were in the Yamanote Circle, in downtown Tokyo, and during the Lockdown, everyone had wondered if maybe that event hadn't been "terrorism" at all. This only confirmed it.

Yukino stood up straight, rubbing at her back. She looked at him, and her expression was unreadable. "Kei has been lying to us."

"Eh?" He straightened his tie. "What are you talkin' about?"

She jerked a thumb at the claw marks. "One or two things like this, you can explain away with weird, coincidental stuff. The world's most unlikely truck accident, or whatever. But I've got eight or nine rolls of shots like this, now."

"I thought your camera was digital." Yukino smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"

"_Listen_! There was a full-fledged demon incident, and Kei pleaded ignorance. And not just to me. _You-know-who_ asked him point blank, and he said no." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "His damned people were _down_ here. I've spoken to witnesses."

"Er." Reiji rubbed his head. "Okay. But..." He grew silent. Damn, she was hot when she was angry. He held up his hands to calm her down. "Why would he lie?"

"I don't know." She shook her head and, for just a moment, leaned against him. "But I'm worried. Maybe we should all get together and talk about this."

Reiji sniffed once, and looked away. "Hey, yeah, sure. I'll just... you know, I'm so busy with the job and all, but..."

Yukino looked at him with an uncomfortable mixture of shock and disappointment. "Oh... Well..."

He wanted to ask her why she was always calling _him_ out for these little missions. If it was about "business," why not get one of the other guys? Brown Uesugi had cleaned up his act... sort of... and would be down to help out the Team Mom whenever he wasn't filming that awful television show of his, or whatever it was that he did these days. Clearly their leader was still digging around when it came to this stuff. Yukino never asked him how _he_ was, whether _he_ was ready to throw himself in a wood chipper at any given moment, or whether _he_ wondered if the best days of his life had already passed—days when he was a hair's breadth from dropping out of high school, constantly walking stiff because of blows he'd taken in an alleyfight.

He knew the moment the energy had sagged out of him. After the Deva System incident, he'd had hope for the future. And then one night he'd flicked on the TV at home and the news was reporting a fire at an orphanage.

* * *

><p><strong>-2007-<strong>

Shinjiro's beanie cap was sitting upside-down on the table in the lounge. Akihiko and Shinji were both trying to flick playing cards into the hat, which had flopped down into more of a nest-shape. Not the cards that Kido-sensei had given them, of course, a fresh pack. Like everything else they used, the cards had a Kirijo Group logo on the back.

Mitsuru was studying on the couch. She had three books open—one in Japanese, one in English, and one in French. She was looking to pick up German, after the exam week passed. Ikutski hadn't been seen in days. She was deliberately ignoring them, because earlier in the day they'd covered everything in her room with fake plastic spiders.

Shinjiro had forced his way into the building, yes, and then forced his way into SEES, and part of him wasn't even sure why he'd done it. Certainly Mitsuru always viewed him with suspicion.

In the old days, he knew, in the orphanage—he and Akihiko had been experiencing the same thing, and they'd both been too afraid to speak to the other. The change that the world would take on at midnight, when every liquid became thick, tarry blood and the other kids would become coffins. They didn't know what caused the change, or how it worked—they'd each pretend to be asleep, shivering under scratchy blankets, and so they couldn't be sure that the other person was also seeing it. Later, they figured it out together, and they'd both stand guard at Miki's coffin, worried that things would come out of the darkness.

Things did come, but not until later. They didn't see their first Shadow, either of them, until after the fire.

Why did Mitsuru Kirijo come for Akihiko, and not for him? It had rankled. They had been separated before, but not by something like this. So, Shinjiro figured he'd take care of it himself. Pencil-neck Ikutski just buckled to him, and he moved in across the hall from Aki.

When they showed him how to wake his Persona up and have it fight for him, the power was at first intoxicating, then quickly terrifying. Castor was full of rage, seemed to drag him around under its own will.

The headaches started then, but he kept them secret.

Every day, the three of them would orient into a new configuration. Three was a _bad_ number for groups. Unbalanced. Akihiko and Mitsuru would study together, and Shinjiro would storm around the building slamming doors and smoking indoors. Or Akihiko and Shinjiro would wrestle in the command room, and Mitsuru would throw books at them and tell them to take it outside. Or, and this was the surprising one, Shinjiro would hover over Mitsuru, who didn't understand more than a third of the objects in their kitchen, and point out (in the most sullen and sarcastic tones possible) what she had to do in order to, say, make toast, or fry an egg. She would teach them (through osmosis, mainly—they didn't listen to her lectures) how to pass for gentlemen and upstanding students, and they taught her (also mostly through osmosis) how to converse with another human being without sounding like a robot.

Shinji's grades slowly began to climb, from failing to abysmal-but-passing. Akihiko cleaned himself up, and the girls at school quickly noticed... much to his chagrin. And their diverse fighting styles slowly began to meet in the middle... enabling them to work, if not exactly as a team, then certainly closer to it.

But.

Shinjiro's "oppressed poor man" schtick towards Mitsuru was getting tiresome for _both_ of the other SEES members. What's more, Mitsuru was starting to feel the pressure at being an outnumbered woman in the group. And Shinjiro resented Akihiko's constant studying, his attempts to better himself. He called it "phony" (or, at least more caustic words to the same effect).

Akihiko, for his part, spent half his time terrified for Shinjiro's safety, and the other half angry at his reckless disregard. Castor _was_ hard for Shinjiro to control, and almost all of his tactics boiled down to "brute force." He pounded on the Shadows like a wild animal, and before their remains would dissolve Akihiko was slowly getting used to the image of a Shinjiro covered in thick, slimy blood. Shinji took to wearing a heavy peacoat, to absorb the splashes of alien innards that would wash over him.

And, of course, they were all teenagers, sharing a house together. Alone. It would be stupid to suggest that they weren't all looking at each other in _that way_, even when they couldn't stand each other. All three of them were too damned good looking for their own good, and it led to stammered apologies and, at least once on Shinjiro's part, a hole punched in the wall of the stairwell. But their unspoken agreement not to make things _worse_ by pursuing each other didn't seem to help cool those fires. After all, they could barely stand anyone else at Gekkoukan—where else were they going to turn?

There was another thing, too, that lingered between Akihiko and Shinjiro. Neither of them talked about Miki anymore. It just happened, like they were daring each other to bring it up first. But the longer it sat and festered, the worse it got. Aki and Shinji had not talked nearly so often after the fire, before Shinji kicked the dormitory door down and insisted he join their secret society. There was too much unresolved.

It was a situation that couldn't maintain its equilibrium for long. Something was going to snap. What none of them expected, was that when it did, someone innocent would get caught in the crossfire.

From Shinji's point of view, it was he who had fouled it all up for all three of them.

* * *

><p><strong>-1996-<strong>

One day, at random, a young girl came up to Reiji when he was sitting on the bench by the basketball court, pointedly not helping anyone, and asked him to do a card trick.

Without even looking at her, he took the deck from his pocket, shuffled them with one hand, and fanned the cards for her to pick one. He was dying for a cigarette, but he'd get busted bad if he was caught smoking on the orphanage grounds.

The girl pulled a card out, and he shuffled and flicked. "Two of clubs, right?" He nodded to the extended card. She removed it from the deck and held it up. The nine of diamonds. He blinked and looked at his cards. The girl grinned at him (she was still missing one or two baby teeth) and held up her card... or rather, cards, as she'd pulled two from the deck.

Reiji snatched the cards from her angrily. "You're cheating." But he couldn't help but laugh, anyway. "What's your name?"

"Miki." He'd heard that name before... Oh, right. Sanada's sister. He spit to one side, enjoying her scrunched up face.

"Miki, huh? Do Aki and Shinji pick on you?" She blushed. He thought so. Those boys doted on the girl like there wasn't anyone else alive. Which... wasn't that hard to understand, really. The girl was cute, and given everything else... He shrugged. "Tell you what. How about I teach you a couple of tricks, so you can get them back?" She nodded excitedly.

The next time he had a session at the orphanage, Shinjiro was walking around with a massive black eye, and Akihiko was laughing harder than anyone that he'd ever heard before.

* * *

><p><strong>-2007-<strong>

"She was, in a lot of ways, the only friend we'd had, and we were the only friend _she_ had." Akihiko was sitting on Shinji's bed. Mitsuru was sitting next to him. The room still had most of his things—the absence of his hidden pack of cigarettes was the only sign that Shinjiro had returned to the room before he'd vanished. "And then, that day, when the building caught fire..."

Mitsuru knew all of this, actually. It had been in Sanada's file, and she'd known it before she approached him that very first day. But this was the first time that he was _telling_ her. She just nodded slowly and let him continue.

"We couldn't do anything. Either of us. I tried to go back in, but the firefighters stopped me before I could. Someone had even held Shinji down so that he didn't try the same thing. We felt so..." Powerless. Weak.

They were both thinking about all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The rogue Shadow. The desperate chase, and the battle. Shinji had... he'd completely lost it. It wasn't even clear if it was Shinji, or Castor, that was doing it, but the result was the same. Just about an entire wall of that building had collapsed, and a woman had been beneath it. Her young son had been there, too, just watching...

Mitsuru's father himself had been forced to step in. They'd gotten the whole thing written off like a car had slammed through the wall, a drunk driver. The kid was an orphan now. Of course he was—what could be more appropriate?

The noise that the boy had made... Akihiko and Shinjiro had not heard a noise like that since the day that it had been they themselves who made it.

And now Shinji had vanished. In the wake of the accident he'd fled, and Aki couldn't catch him. Shinji knew all of the streets, the places to hide. He was just... gone.

Akihiko found himself, of all things, crying. He didn't think he had tears left after Miki. Didn't think that he'd allow himself again to be so weak. But there he was, bawling like a toddler. After a long moment, Mitsuru, awkward, antisocial ice queen Mitsuru, wrapped her long arms around him, and he clutched her like the mother he barely knew.

And so the long night went on. She wound up putting him to bed (in Shinji's bed, even) and slipping downstairs to open one of the antique cabinets in the lounge. There was a very old bottle of wine squirreled away, one that she'd saved for one of her father's very rare visits to the dormitory. She opened it, poured herself a glass... and threw it against the wall. When her composure finally returned, she took the bottle with her up to the roof, where she swigged from it and, after a long time of staring at Shinji's old ashtray, she pulled a half-smoked butt from the copper tin and lit it up.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010? (Timeline B-AB?)-<strong>

Shinjiro considered Chidori a kindred spirit. The girl, for her part, barely noticed him. These things stayed the same on both sides of the coin. The past remained the same, too; the fire, the bad foster parents, the time on the streets, the collapsed house and the death glare of Ken Amada. It was only Hamuko that was different, and Shinji never saw that the same death resided within her as well. He probably would have found it funny.

No, there was a brief period when he thought that maybe he had feelings for Chidori. Then he realized how irritating he found that placid tone and resigned stare. It was too much like his own, even though she had the comforting knowledge that he lacked. No, he didn't want her, he just wanted to be her, even if she was surrounded by ugly vicious scumbags. He was long past caring anymore.

Akihiko kept sniffing him out, kept visiting him again and again. At first it was awkward, then it made him angry, and then it became such habit that he stopped questioning it. Right about then, that final turn, was when Aki started asking for him to come back.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Reiji took a pack from his jacket pocket. "I, uh, I'm not allowed to do it at home." Akihiko shrugged. Reiji took a long drag and slugged his student on the shoulder. "What a pair we make, huh?"

Aki gave him a weak smile. "I guess so, yeah." It was probably a good thing that they were both so lost in their brooding. If either of them realized that Reiji was smoking in the shadow of the orphanage that had burned their lives down, it's entirely possible that the level of angst might have killed them.

That said, Reiji was careful to snuff out the remains of the cigarette with his fingers and carefully transfer the butt to his pocket when he had finished. "So, tell you what. You're gonna have to get back to your girl, soon, and she's probably going to kick your nuts in for jawing about all of this with me instead of her. But here's what I think. No matter how I feel about my life, I _am_ smart enough to know what the right thing to do is. The problem is when you get your head stuck so far up yourself that you forget about it for a sec."

They both stood, and started walking back towards the car. In a high window of the orphanage, a small girl was peering at them through the window. They both gave the girl sad waves, and she gave one back.

"Shinji always reminded me of myself. I was a punk kid back then, so maybe I didn't do so much to help him, like I should have. But he did." Reiji scowled. "Stuff eats you up inside, and all you can do is let it out in the worst ways. But... you and he had the same, I dunno, 'good hearts,' I guess, all that sentimental crap." He made dismissive motions with his hands. "Thing is, sometimes when a friend is doing something to hurt themselves, you gotta step in. Nobody stepped in with me." He paused. "Or maybe they did, and I didn't see it for what it was." Now he had an uneasy smile. "Heh. Damn."

"What?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Look, if your friend is in trouble, you owe it to them to do what you can whether they appreciate it or not. If you're wrong about them, so what? You can apologize, or knock each other's lights out, or whatever, and move on. And if you're right, then you owe it to them to beat some sense in."

Akihiko pulled at his gloves. "You're probably right."

"Course I'm right, that's why you're carrying my 'business card' in your wallet." Reiji grinned. "Now drop me off with my old lady, so you can get back home to yours."

* * *

><p><strong>-2010? (Timeline B-AB?)-<strong>

Sometimes, in the coma, Shinjiro would be someplace else, watching things that he couldn't know, couldn't have sensed or understood. It was these moments, when he knew that he was finally dying.

One time, he was in a library, at a different high school. Ice covered the walls, thick crunchy snow was piled up in mounds all over the floor. And three students were burning books.

Hidehiko "Brown" Uesugi was pulling pages from a stack of old hardcovers and tossing them into the metal trash can where the fire raged. He shivered. Nothing seemed to work the chill out of his body, but still he fed the meager little bonfire—if nothing else, it kept his hands busy. Yukino kept looking at him, and he knew that she probably objected to he and Yuka burning the books, but she was too tired and hungry to object. "Where," he finally asked, "Did Elly go?"

Yukino shrugged. "She's probably following him on the shopping run."

Brown rolled his eyes. "Hopeless." But she just shrugged again.

When they were on the move, Yukino was a pretty damned incredible leader, he had to admit; she gave the demons no quarter, and they'd already taken on that first tower within the malformed school well under the cosmic time limit. Even "the other guy" kept deferring to her – if only because he was often focused on what was going on _outside_ the school (which was to say, Maki). But the minute they stopped to rest, she started to shut down. It was Ms. Saeko. Yukino loved the teacher – they all did, but Yukino more than anyone – and they were all beginning to despair of ever rescuing her.

The big question on everyone's minds, of course, was who dug the damned mask out of storage and screwed this thing up in the first place? Everything was bad enough with the demons on the loose, before this thing started. Nothing made a damned bit of sense.

Nobody knew what had happened to Mark, either - Hidehiko had seen him last, arguably, when Mark and Nanjou had been on their way to the police station. But Nanjou had made it back, just barely, with a whole in his chest, and he'd been too delerious to explain. Mark, for all they knew, was dead. But neither Yukino nor their leader would let them voice the idea out loud.

Nanjou had barely made it inside the school before the ice had begun crawling up the walls. He was lucky enough to be lying on a bed down the hall, next to the one holding Maki's mother. He was being ministrated to by the world's most attractive school nurse, while Brown was fighting demons and trying to shake the image of the... _thing_... that had come out of Toro's belly.

Devil-Boy was shredding paper gleefully and sprinkling it into the fire like confetti. Yuka had been quiet lately. They all were probably hoping that she was thinking about what had happened in the cafeteria, but more likely she was gearing up for an epic whining fit. When even Brown thought you were being immature, that _had_ to say something.

Elly finally returned, and she had a small plastic bag full of drugs from that whacko shop that had appeared elsewhere in the building. Her sword was freshly bloody, which means she'd had to fight on her way back. Behind her was The Boss, who just slumped against the doorjamb and let his eyelids fall for a moment.

Elly just shook her head - "I don't want to talk about it" - and sat next to Yukino. They both looked at the door set into one wall of the library. It led to the next tower.

"Can we rest a little longer?" Yuka only whispered it.

"No," said Elly.

"Yes," said Yukino. So they rested a little longer.

Brown crinkled his nose a little. They... none of them _really_ liked each other. It didn't seem fair – stuff like this was supposed to make you bond together, right?

Finally, Yukino spoke up. "You know... if Ms. Saeko wasn't in danger... I don't know if I could do this. I think I would have just..." She didn't finish the thought. Mr. Man of Few Words just crouched down, drew designs in the snow, thinking. Finally, Elly shook her head.

"Honestly. It's not as bad as all that." Yuka looked ready to explode at that, but Hidehiko just grabbed her shoulder and shook his head. He was too damned tired for bad jokes, even. Having Yuka lose it would only set _him_ off. "I know, I know... everything's _frightfully_ miserable. But consider, for a moment, how much worse off we could be. We have power. Our Personas enable us to help. Everything that's happened, it could have happened without Mister Mysterious Butterfly stepping in, you know? And besides that..." She leaned back. "Besides that, we're doing things that nobody has ever done before. They may not be pleasant, and I might never sleep a full night again in my life, but... I refuse to have regrets."

"Damn." Brown shook his head. Yukino wrapped one arm around Elly and hugged her close. Devil-Boy tossed a Bible in the barrel and giggled a little... Brown socked him on the arm, hard enough to send him scurrying off to the opposite corner.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

When he entered their regular restaurant, Chie gave him the glower to end them all. Aki held up his hands. "You were right."

She didn't expect so little resistance, and so there was a delay while she switched tracks. That got Akihiko to the table and into his seat.

"Okay," he said, and despite his resolve he still felt his chest tighten, "Let's talk."

* * *

><p><strong>-2010? (?)-<strong>

When they stood before Nyx and raised their finger, Shinjiro was there with both of them, on death's door. "All right," he said, "Let's do this."

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Twenty-year old Takahisa Kido let the door slam as he stormed out. "Don't treat me like a damned kid!"

His father marched right after him, cell phone in hand. "Don't give me that crap! You're going to live in this house, I don't care how old you are, you're going to listen to my damned rules!"

"Oh, yeah, like your example's a great one to follow." The boy pointed angrily. "Like _you_ were such a great student, like _you_ have such a great job!"

Reiji... didn't exactly have a great retort for that, and some of the anger fell right out of him. "...At least I finished school..."

When people like Yukino or Maki would call, they'd ask: "So, how's your son?" And he'd just say something like: "Ah, you know how kids are," and change the subject. Maki, especially, saw through this in a heartbeat. Masao had taken one look at Takahisa as a baby and proclaimed that he had all of the bad attitude that his father did – a sort of doom-laden prophecy.

"Like I give a damn _what_ you did." The boy pulled on his jacket. "I'm goin' out." And he stormed off.

Reiji sighed, just plopped down on the doorstep outside, and rubbed at his face. He didn't want to have to go back inside and have a _second_ fight, this time with his wife. His wife, who he wasn't sure he even liked. Or at least, he wasn't sure that she liked _him_. He was pretty convinced, in fact, that she was cheating on him. Had even dialed half the number to the Kuzunoha agency, get Tamaki or her idiot husband to follow her around for a while – at least then he'd know for sure.

She'd lived in Sumaru City – she'd been a Sevens student back when he was at St. Hermelin. During all the business that happened that year, with the NWO, her house had collapsed, and this was not long after telling him that he was going to be a father. The same time that his stepbrother had risen from the dead. Boy, what a banner year _that_ had been. But he'd wanted to do the right thing, he had been pretty sure that he loved her, and he _knew_ that he loved the baby.

Now, though...

He dialed Yukino. Even if the woman _was_ cheating on him, he'd never run around on her. He wouldn't be like his father, that was certain. But in all this time, he'd never put much thought into how Yukino had viewed his half-assed behavior. Especially when she had a husband that she was _very_ into, by all accounts a real stand-up guy. And anyway, now he had new issues on his plate.

"Hello? Yeah. Yeah, it's me." He shifted the phone from one hand to the other, and flexed his hands. The calloused knuckles almost creaked with the motion, but when he turned the hand around, a playing card still slid right into his palm. Takahisa used to love the magic tricks when he was younger; which had been good, because sometimes it seemed like it was all he had to offer. "I'm calling to apologize. Hey, don't laugh. Yes, I've apologized before. Shut the Hell up." He was, despite himself, smiling a little.

He hadn't ever really talked about _him_self, either. Because he'd been humiliated. But she knew him better than that, didn't she? "Look, you're right. If Nanjou's hiding stuff, we should go talk to him, maybe put his teeth on the curb until he stops being such an as... Eh?" He snorted. "No, no. Hey, I wanted to ask you something. You're always dragging me out on your errands. How about next time we get a coffee and talk like people who didn't... yeah, exactly. Plus I could use some advice. Shut _up_, girl, you sound like Ayase. No, it's... business stuff."

He saw, at the end of the alley, that his son had returned. Was watching him. He tried to give the boy an easy smile, to wave him back over. He'd make this work, whatever was going to happen.

A better career, one where he could support the kid – give him a reason to be proud. Visit regularly. He wouldn't have to live there anymore. The kid had to be miserable, stuck between two people who didn't talk to each other. Maybe they could make it work with a separation, but if not, at least the kid wouldn't be in the middle. No wonder he was so messed up.

Why hadn't he _thought_ about it much these past few years? Because he'd been thinking of himself. His own problems. He thought about how those once-a-week visits to the orphanage had been fulfilling in an unexpected way, and how he could have done so much more if he'd been old enough and wise enough to give half a damn. And maybe that still would have been true a week ago. But there was still time to start doing the right thing.

"When does the boss want to meet? I'll be there. I promise."

Takahisa was in front of the house now, with just the barest hint of tears in his eyes (too tough to really cry, just like his old man) and tight fists by his side. He ended the call.

"C'mere. I wanna tell you a story."

* * *

><p><strong>-2009 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

"You're a grumpy Gus." Hamuko leaned down to look up into Shinji's face. He glowered at her, and she just giggled.

"I'm dressed like a damned butler." He stuck one finger in his collar and tried to loosen it.

They were both standing just outside of the access point. Nobody was sure, exactly, what the Hell those portals in Tartarus were supposed to be, or perhaps better _why_ they were there—who was supposed to use them? But then, nothing made sense in Tartarus.

Junpei and Akihiko had already slipped through the gateway, and were no doubt pulling off their ties down in the lobby. Hamuko, though, was standing in front of the access point and blocking Shinjiro's exit. "When you look at me like that," he mumbled, "you look just like Hamtaro."

She pouted. "Why do people keep saying that? Everyone always says that!" She crossed her arms. "Fuuka?"

Soft, lilting music filled their heads. It was Fuuka's newest pet project, providing some musical accompaniment to their exploratory trips into the tower. Sometimes it was over the radio, and sometimes her enjoyment of the music just seemed to drift right into their own minds. It had been a trial and error process, figuring out what kept them energetic during battle without distracting them. Mitsuru had wanted to complain—but then, their leader had headphones dangling from her neck even when facing off against a floor guardian, or one of the giant Shadows that emerged during the full moon.

This, though, was different, a classical waltz, and Shinjiro winced as Hamuko held out her hands.

"I don't dance."

"Tch. Idiot," she said in his own voice. "All guys say that, and they're all full of crap. C'mon, this was the only way that I could get you dressed up without the guys giving you a hard time. Fair is fair. If you do it in the tower, where Shadows can kill us, you can pretend it's macho, right?"

He hung his head and placed his hands in hers. She pulled him close.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to do this?"

They actually _had_ held a dance, once, at the orphanage. The boys and girls were too embarrassed to look at each other, mostly. They'd just been kids. Except. As Hamuko pulled him and pushed him across the floor in the haunted tower, until he started to pick up the steps on his own (be aware of your own body, Kido-sensei had told them), he remembered that he _had_ danced with a girl that day. Miki had stood on his feet, and he'd swung her around in great, loping strides, making her laugh. Akihiko pretended to get jealous, which made her laugh harder.

"Don't get that faraway look." She pulled his chin down. "Look at _me_. Pretend like you're enjoying this." He had no way, in his language, to tell her that he was enjoying it. She pressed her face against the front of his suit as he spun, and pretty soon he buckled under pressure and tried basic things that he'd seen on television, like twirling her (she did most of the work) and finally, dipping her low in his strong arms.

It would have been romantic, and they would likely have kissed, if Fuuka's voice didn't cut in, seeming to reverberate up and down the halls.

"_I sense death._"

Hamuko groaned. "It was fun while it lasted." They separated quickly, and she waved him on. "Let's go."

But when she stepped into the portal, Shinjiro lingered. The stale air in the tower grew colder and colder, and Shinji could almost picture ice slowly snaking its way up the walls. And then they were looking at each other.

The massive Reaper and Shinjiro had a long staredown. The personification of death itself seemed to hesitate, at the glare from the teenager. And then Shinji waved and stepped into the portal, even as the Reaper began to raise its weapon. Neither of them seemed bothered; they'd meet again very soon.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010-<strong>

It was on the eve of the end of the world, and Akihiko Sanada was wandering the halls of his high school. Many students had bailed—Nyx Cult posters were slapped over notices about sports meets and art showings. He wasn't sure what he was doing. There was so much to worry about, so much to do, but the descent of Nyx was just too big for him to frame properly in his mind. He knew that they'd fight. They would probably die trying. But past that...

He pushed open the back door, onto the practice field, and found that two second years were calling out to a group of jogging... children. They were young kids, using the field during school hours. He walked over, a confused frown twitching at his cheeks.

Aki recognized one of the Gekkoukan students as Yuko Nishiwaki, team manager for a number of the sports clubs. She was respected for a second year, a good student. When she turned to see a third-year student staring at her, she yelped, nearly knocking over her partner, who was balanced on a pair of crutches. Wait, he was familiar too... what was his name... Minato's friend. He'd been on Minato's track team earlier in the year.

"Sanada-san!" She looked over at the kids, who were ending their lap and coming back around to meet her. "I'm sorry! Don't tell anyone! Please!"

He waved her off. "What's going on?"

Yuko bit her lip. "They're fourth graders from the neighborhood. Some sixth graders had been picking on them, and so we've been kind of..."

The other boy piped in with, "Minato helped set us up."

"Of course he did." Aki's face softened. "They're running?"

Yuko blushed. Or blushed again. Or continued to blush. "They're supposed to beat them in a race."

"Hm. That's fine, but... maybe you should teach them how to stand up for themselves, too. If they're being picked on." Aki walked over towards the kids. Yuko and the boy on crutches followed, too surprised to object. He kneeled down to meet them at least closer to their level. He wasn't good with children... he remembered when Ken had arrived at the dorm, following him around like one of the girls at school. But this was something that he remembered very well. "You guys are getting picked on, huh?"

The kids shuffled, a little afraid to admit it.

Aki tried to smile. "Well, tell you what. I want to teach you all a few things." He laid his coat over his lap. "I think... Well, let me ask you. Is there ever a _good_ time to fight?"

The kids looked at each other in confusion. Finally, one of them offered a hesitant, "To protect somebody?"

Aki nodded. "That's pretty much the only good time, yeah. And when you have the ability to fight to protect someone..." He smiled. "...You have to. You really do. But learning how to fight isn't always about fighting. It's about knowing that you can defend yourself—so that you won't be _scared_." Slowly, the kids started to pick up on it. "Okay. Now, the first rule? Is about watching the hands..."

The two second-year students watched in awe as Akihiko took the young kids through the way to stand, the way to move. Aki, though, was reminded of many things, and looking at the children taking the first steps towards no longer being afraid... he felt like maybe they could do it after all, fell Nyx. Maybe there would always be hope. He'd fight to protect them, just like he was taught.

* * *

><p><strong>-? (?)-<strong>

In his coma, Shinji imagined himself walking through an infinite expanse of white. This bit seemed rather predictable, really, although he didn't expect to bump into three people sitting at a card table when he did so.

He wasn't sure that he wanted to be around other people, and so he hesitated. But there was literally nothing else in existence, as far as he could tell, and so finally he let his shoulders slump and walk closer.

It was two adult men and a girl something like his own age. After a moment of panic, he saw that it was not a girl that he knew. This made it easier to get closer. One of them, a pale-looking man with blond hair and blue eyes, looked irritated and kept glancing at his watch.

* * *

><p><strong>-1997-<strong>

In a sort of alternate reality Mikage-Cho, people were also playing cards.

Of the nine people assembled in the small building, only four were awake. One girl, in fact, was sprawled out in the lap of their leader, who was silently looking at his cards. The boy in the yellow stocking cap was looking at them both with a mixture of emotions. Jealousy, regret, anger, resignation? Masao "Mark" Inaba didn't know how to feel.

The Historical Society building was free of demons, and so they'd decided to rest up. The Expel Mirror, which they'd already looted and shoved into a backpack, lay beside Kei Nanjou. Despite needing the rest, nobody seemed willing to sleep, and so Reiji Kido had pulled out his deck of cards. When even Kei had agreed that it would probably take their minds off of things, all of the yen had been dumped into a pile at their feet and divvied up. Currently, Reiji had about half of everyone's original kitties, and Masao was sure that he was cheating. But honestly, what did it matter, anymore?

Kei glanced at the backpack. "It's a shame, that we can't glance into this mirror and see the other world." Ever since Yamaoka had died, he'd occasionally let slip with these little philosophical comments. "To think that the Many Worlds Interpretation could be accurate... does our every choice provide another world somewhere?" Meaning, were there worlds where his butler was still alive? Kei hadn't appreciated the man who had all but raised him until it was too late. Masao wanted to joke about that, but didn't, because he'd been worried about his mother since this had all started.

"Ain't no sense worryin' about stuff like that." Reiji tossed in a card and drew its replacement. "Only matters what you do now." Their leader nodded his head slightly in agreement and held up two fingers. Reiji dealt him a pair of cards.

"I'm not implying otherwise, in a practical sense." Kei kept the cards in his hand. "I just think that it's cause for reflection." Masao snorted at the inadvertent pun, and Kei glared. "I don't think that it makes your actions lack value. Quite the opposite." He waited for Mark to drop three cards and take three more, and then continued. "More than that, though... Picture if, when you woke up in the morning, the face in the mirror was another you. You'd..." He frowned.

The boy in the earring glanced up and cleared his throat. "You'd never feel alone."

* * *

><p><strong>-2010? (Timeline B-AB?)-<strong>

For Shinjiro, at the brink of life and death, he saw the two Arisatos, the two who were one, as though they both existed.

Sometimes, their actions would line up precisely. As if they shared the same body. Sometimes, they were so different that he wouldn't have thought them connected. When Minato would sneak into the karaoke club and belt it out for an uncaring crowd, Hamuko was bussing tables in Chagall cafe and counting tips religiously, knowing that each yen went to something that might save someone's life. Minato would stand for an hour at the crane game at the arcade, dropping the claw over and over again to get the item that one friend had admired two weeks earlier. Hamuko would slave over a stove at the school, baking special cookies or pastries for each member of her team.

When Minato would go up to the roof, watch the stars, and try to remember his past... Hamuko would be downstairs, needling Shinji, throwing her future away on a man who couldn't share it with her.

One night, Minato looked up from his desk. He'd gotten distracted in his studies, and had scribbled "Sister?" in his notebook. Hamuko, though, kept reading, scratching out math formulas, and left Shinji to wonder what to make of _that_.

* * *

><p><strong>-? (?)-<strong>

He sat at the table. The man with dark hair was wearing a white mask.

"Welcome. We have been waiting for you for a long time, Shinjiro Aragaki."

Shinji ignored him, ignored both of the men, and looked at the girl. "Who are you?"

She shook her head. "My name is Tamaki Uchida. I don't know why I'm here."

The blond-haired man chuckled.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009?-<strong>

Shinji did not remember appearing before Minato, during his time as the Great Seal. Does that mean that it did not happen? Perhaps it doesn't matter.

Shinji did, however, remember a time when he passed by Minato speaking with the sick Akinari, on the bench by the shrine. He clucked his tongue and kept walking. The boy cared too much about anyone, he thought to himself. If it didn't get him killed, it would destroy him. Shinjiro had cared, and it had ruined him.

A shame, perhaps, that he hadn't lingered. Akinari's impending death might have given Shinjiro pause. They were, in some ways, very alike.

* * *

><p><strong>-2007-<strong>

Young Akihiko Sanada was shoving things into a blender when Mitsuru found him in the dorm's small kitchen. It was no doubt some sort of shake to go along with his training. Its color looked unnatural. Akihiko took some pride in how awful the things tasted – his ways of punishing himself were a little more subtle than his friend's, but they were both immature.

"Why," she asked him, "did you not tell me about him? I would have thought that you would want him here, if it's possible that he could fight."

Akihiko looked down, and stabbed a button on the blender. As it chugged, he sighed.

She waited him out. Mitsuru was nothing if not patient, deliberate. When the blender finally whirred to a stop, she continued. "You can't protect him. Not like that. Whatever he wants to do, he'll do it. We bore witness to _that_ when he forced his way onto this team."

"I know." Akihiko poured the slurry into a tall glass. He gave her an ironic smile. "But if he's going to shoot himself in the head, I'd rather not be the one to put the gun into his hand."

* * *

><p><strong>-? (?)-<strong>

The man in the mask folded his hands. "You are at the intersection between life and death."

Shinjiro sneered. "When haven't I been?"

The blond-haired man laughed, slapped the table. "You. You I _like_, kid."

Tamaki was looking nervously from one of the men to the other. She seemed to recognize them both.

The man in the mask looked down. Despite not seeing his face, Shinji could sense that it was pained. "This moment is the culmination of your world's history. You two humans, who have never met each other, have had your fates inextricably linked."

In any other place, any other time, Shinji would scoff, or get angry, or offer a retort. But all things in this place were true. Shinjiro was still plugged into machines in an Iwatodai hospital. There was a scar over his heart, the shape of a starburst—left behind by an exploding watch. Somehow, Shinjiro also knew the names of the two men at the table. His debts were coming due.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

In a tastefully-decorated office, Kei Nanjou was looking at a folder and scowling.

It was the report on the events in Antarctica. He looked at them often. Particularly the sections on the "Great Mother" demons – one of whom bore resemblance to the Asura Queen, Nyx – and one called "Maya," whose powerset was certainly familiar, and who once made dreams reality. That these "Mother" demons had to be attacked first by destroying their "children..." it was all too close to the events of other incidents, particularly those in which Kei had been an active player.

It was as if every incident involving demons, or Personas, were just links in a chain, something that was leading somewhere. For his part, Kei did not want to see what culmination could result from all of these atrocities. Already, people were dying again, and this time in something larger in scope than he could have predicted. Something was happening, and Nanjou wondered bleakly if any of them would be capable of stopping it.

* * *

><p><strong>-? (?)-<strong>

When, exactly, did the butterfly first flap its wings?

Such things are hard to place. Perhaps the most likely origin of the world's new turning was in ancient Japan, when four men were called from across the great nation to serve at the feet of the Yatagarasu. It is believed that the deity had chosen these men from the whisperings of a butterfly. When they received their power, they henceforth had the ability to see, and to summon, the demons that walked amongst them.

The Four Kuzunohas had a strict code of honor that had served them well in their attempts to broker peace with the demons when possible, and war against them when necessary, to protect all of Japan. Unfortunately, one of the Kuzunohas, Raidou, broke this code. He was a Housoushi magician from Kyoto, and in his moral and mortal weakness he betrayed one of his fellow Kuzunohas in the quest for power.

A brave samurai named Tatsunoshin Suou chose to rise up against his corrupt and evil lord, Kiyotada Sumaru. He entered into an alliance with the magician, Raidou. The politics of the period were labyrinthine; each of the Kuzunoha dynasties had their own seats of power in those days. It was decided that Sumaru's evil must be halted, but the power that the lord held with the Shogun was so significant that a careful agreement was penned, outlining the level of participation that Raidou the First could undertake. This agreement was broken, when Sumaru bought the magician's non-interference. Without the support, Suou died bringing the lord down, and the Kuzunoha name was dishonored for centuries.

By the time the carnage had settled and the world had moved on, more people knew of the existence of demons, and the Four Families of the Kuzunohas were forever separated. The Yatagarasu cursed Raidou with the title _Gouto-Douji_, and he would forever after be forced to train those who followed in his lineage, only to watch them grow old and die. He would be immortal, but forever hold the shape of a common housecat.

The existence, and later frequent quelling, of these demons changed the world from what it might have been. The Taisho period of Japan lasted longer than it should have, and in the years following World War II, Japan was quicker to recover, and accepted more readily certain western influences while maintaining more fully its own national pride and identity. Fewer people died—because in the Taisho period, the greatest of the Kuzunohas, Raidou Kuzunoha the XIV, was able to slay the great Fiends that roamed this earth.

At this time, this same heir to the Raidou title did battle with a time-traveler from the future, an incident which caused ripples forwards and backwards in the timestream...

In the world that _should_ have been, the demons grew stronger. The world eventually burned beneath their heels, until a brilliant man named STEVEN discovered the Demon Summoning Program, a piece of software that allowed a few spare young heroes to reclaim the earth, ever so briefly. The program had been created by Akemi Nakajima, a frustrated high school student who had damned the world with his own foolishness.

It would, too, have been a world that later collapsed into nothing in the Conception, a world that gave birth to the horrifying Hito-Shura, the most powerful mortal being in creation. Mankind would survive only barely, until the saviors known as the Embryon would raise them up into a new age.

This did not happen. The knowledge of the demons amongst us came early. Some said that it was the actions of Raidou the XIVth himself, who sent knowledge of the dark and secret worlds of the demons into the underground, to solidify the new future that he had helped create – a legacy of "spreading rumors" that would follow the Kuzunoha name into the twentieth century.

And so a boy named Hazama performed a ritual in his high school gym, and changed the flow of history forever.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009?-<strong>

Just once, for a single fleeting moment, the two Arisato children, separated by the flow of time, glimpsed each other in a mirror. It was just a flash in the periphery of their vision, a color of hair that did not match their own. It was quickly forgotten.

It occurred, coincidentally enough, on the afternoon before Shinjiro Aragaki died... or did not die.

What separated these worlds? What made time flow in another way? What branched off to make Hamuko Arisato's world, a world that Minato Arisato was made to experience from upon the Great Seal?

There was a woman named Yui, who had been a female detective in a man's world. It had been a constant struggle to prove herself. She was blessed in finding a man that respected her and became her equal, a fellow investigator who became her partner. When the time came to think about having children, it was Yui who decided most insistently that they must have a girl. She wanted to teach her daughter to be stronger even than she had been.

In one universe, Yui Shirogane got her wish with her first child. In another, she had to wait for the second.

* * *

><p><strong>-1996?-<strong>

Akemi Nakajima and Ideo Hazama had quite a bit in common—they were both brilliant students who were horribly abused by their classmates. In Nakajima's case, his creation of the Demon Summoning Program was the culmination of years of work and study—a fundamental connection was forged between magic and the hard sciences. Hazama, however, did not have nearly so much originality or intelligence. He lit candles, chanted from books, and made hand gestures. In the end, though, the results in both cases were similar.

Hazama's spell pulled Karukozaka High School out of its own universe and into Makai—the realm of demons. Only one girl stood against Hazama, who had declared himself the new Demon Emperor. Her name was Tamaki Uchida, and she was the destined final member of the fourth Kuzunoha bloodline.

* * *

><p><strong>-2001-<strong>

Maya Amano sat cross-legged on top of Chief Daisuke Todoroki's desk. The Kuzunoha Detective Agency was enabling her to spread rumors, rumors that were coming true. Tamaki Uchida, the girl sitting at that desk and typing into a computer, all but lived out of the office, those days – at least since her fiancee had gone missing. Maya was looking at a collection of books and DVD's that were piled up on a table next to a small television.

"Twentieth Century Boys... The Thing... Neon Genesis Evangelion... Twin Peaks..." Maya chuckled. "You have some dark tastes, Tamaki. And I never thought of you as much of an otaku."

"I'm not." Tamaki didn't look up. "Those are research." She wondered if Maya would be so quick to sit on the desk if she knew that "The Chief" was currently being inhabited by the ghost of a fallen Devil Summoner, heir to the title of Kyouji Kuzunoha.

Maya held up an old, battered videocassette. "Wow, a tape. You never even see these anymore." She looked at the title. "If?"

Tamaki shook her head. "Don't ask." She kept typing.

Maya frowned. "You knew all of them before, didn't you? Kei Nanjou and all of those others. Did you fight with them?"

"It wasn't my turn." She had pressed her rapier into the hands of the boy with the earring, and wished him luck. She had trusted him, understood that it was his place to save them. And when the school had frosted over at the whim of the Snow Queen, she had hid away in a small room with Satomi Tadashi, the classmate who was now her fiancée, and they'd held each other until it had all passed. That was all she wanted from life, now. Leave it to the others to solve. Let her be a normal girl, please, the kind who cried and hid.

And yet, there she was, happily working away as a Kuzunoha. She knew she'd never get that choice. Satomi was missing, and there was a Nekomata hiding away in her bathroom. Maybe, maybe this time when it was over.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

Shinjiro and Tamaki chose to look at each other, rather than regard the two other figures at the table. There were cards strewn about, but whatever game they had been playing, it wasn't one that Shinji knew—they were not traditional playing cards, or hanafuda cards. They were western Tarot cards.

The blonde man finally spoke.

"Phil here..." He waved to the man in the mask. "Phil and I made a bargain, a long time ago." And it wasn't hard to guess that "a long time ago" for these two was very long indeed. "He was allowed to make one change, and I was allowed to make one change. A big change, a change that could not be explained away by a dream, or a vision. A god-level change, to coin a phrase." He chuckled. "So, he whispered in a God's ear. Oh, he did some things later, to be sure, but those were part of a separate bet. They didn't relate to our own deal." He glanced at the glowering figure across from him. "And he won't soon repeat _that_ mistake, will you, Phil? Rebuked quite harshly by a mortal, quite harshly indeed." He grinned. "Now, he's been waiting for centuries to see when I was going to take my turn, and cash in on the other half of the deal."

Shinjiro didn't like where this was going.

Tamaki looked down. "This is my fault. If I had let Hazama win... maybe things might have evened out."

The blond-haired man laid his hand over hers. "No, I daresay not. Raidou the XIVth took care of that." He winked at Shinjiro. "Though, he might have had help."

"So." He clapped his hands together. "I've called the four of us here to complete the bargain. I get to take one of you. Which one shall it be?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

In Gatten Sushi, one of the hippest joints in Sumaru City, a sushi chef was humming – quite loudly, in fact – as he prepared dishes for customers. The chef was something of a musician, in fact, and he offered live acoustic performances in his restaurant nearly every night, which had made it a big hang-out for the nearby Sevens and Cuss High students. Now, though, the customers were enduring a much briefer refrain, hummed over and over as if the chef was trying to dislodge it from his brain. One of those customers, a history teacher named Jun Kashihara, looked at the cards in his hands and smiled.

His opponent was too busy keeping an eye on the chef. Miyabi Hanakouji, who was in fact the chef's wife, had a crooked smile. "What _is_ that song you're humming? That's not one of yours."

"It's Schubert, actually." Jun sorted the hanafuda cards around to line up the suits. "But do not ask me how _he_ knows it."

The chef handed a plate to someone at the bar with a smile, and then made a pouting face at the two of them. "Awww, c'mon, are you trying to tell me that not even the great Michel can stand up to some old fart?"

Jun laid down a full suit. "December!" A full bouquet of Paulownia cards glared up at Miyabi, who frowned and looked back at her cards.

The chef, whose name was so _obviously_ Eikichi Mishina, glanced at the clock. "Ah! Time for a break." He waved in the part-time help and excused himself from the customers at the bar. "All right! You've got me, Jun, I can never escape your piercing gaze... I did not write the song." He frowned. "Actually, I don't know where the Hell I heard it. It's been stuck in my head for days."

"It was originally a poem, and Schubert put it to music." Jun put a card in the discard pile. "It's one of my father's favorites. It's a lovely poem, actually. It's about a lovesick man who has lost his great love, who curses his own shadow for aping his grief." He had a wistful smile. "It always fills me with nostalgia, but for what, I couldn't tell you."

"Speaking of..." Miyabi tossed out a card, herself. "When is Lisa back in town?"

Jun smiled. "Her tour should be wrapping up within a week or two."

Eikichi sniffed. "Maybe this time Ginko will listen to me, take a lesson or two from my own songwriting _gift_."

Miyabi winked at Jun. "He's very excited, he just doesn't want to admit it."

"Judas!" Eikichi pointed at his wife. "_J'accuse_!"

Now Jun was humming the Schubert piece. "I don't know what it is about this piece that always catches in my throat. Like a sad moment that I've forgotten."

Miyabi sighed. "What's it called?"

"_Der Doppelganger_."

The door to the restaurant slid open and another familiar face entered. Miyabi let out a little squeal at the arrival of an old friend, and the men both waved over the harried and spacey looking woman with half a dozen pens stuck through different parts of her hair. "Chikarin! It's great to see you!"

Eikichi handed the woman a menu before she could speak. "Always nice to see an old friend – anything you want is on the house."

"Roger!" Chikarin started to look through the menu, then remembered something and slapped it closed. "Not Roger! News!" She slapped the table. "Item! Major reporter goes off the grid in America with young intern, causes scandal!" She crooked a thumb at herself. "They're moving me up!"

Michel nodded. "Hey, good for you – you deserve it!"

"Well, I hope the other reporter's okay..." Miyabi frowned.

Jun frowned as well, humming that song again.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Shinjiro Aragaki.

He was an angry boy, and one day that anger caused him to hurt another person. Shinjiro was a soft, kind, scared young man at his core, and this hurt him deeply. And so this boy, he began to wish for death. He tried to keep himself bottled away with drugs, but these things did not make him better, and did not quiet the monster in his heart.

One day, his wish was given form, when the son of the woman he had wronged re-entered his life, with a burning black vengeance buried within his core. Shinjiro came to live with this son, knowing that death would soon follow. He and the son, and the others with them, fought together and found a respect that Shinjiro had barely known before.

He did not know that death itself also lived beneath the same roof. He was so focused on the son, he did not notice that it was death who issued the orders to them in battle.

Once upon a time, there was another Shinjiro Aragaki—the man who fell in love with death. And in doing so, finally wanted to live.

"He's flatlining!" Doctors and nurses crowded around the comatose Shinjiro, one of them rubbing together the ubiquitous paddles. "What the Hell happened here?"

A nurse was pushed aside, even as she spoke. "Nothing! He just started shaking himself apart!"

It was the night that SEES would storm the final floors of Tartarus.

The paddles were placed against Shinji's bare chest. "All right," said the doctor. "let's do this. Clear!"

And in the next moment, the Dark Hour struck.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

Tamaki bowed her head. "I'll go."

But Shinjiro looked at the blond-haired man with suspicion. "No. To Hell with that. Take me." The girl looked panicked, the blond-haired man serene. "Leave her out of this."

In finally wanting to live, Shinjiro finally had something worth dying for. _I'm sorry, Hamuko. But you'd hate me if I didn't, anyway._

The blond-haired man clapped his hands together. "Well. If we're all decided, then..." He leaned over and whispered in Shinji's ear. "I knew you'd say yes, if I brought the girl."

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

Takaya leveled his revolver at Ken. Shinji dove in front of the boy, and the world went crimson, and then washed out as he fell.

Minato Arisato had not known that Shinjiro was missing his pocketwatch. He had never gone to find it, and had never returned it to him. The bullet drilled through Shinji, the teenager coughed up blood, and then he fell.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Shinji's eyes opened. Somewhere, he knew, Hamuko was dying.

He yanked the tubes forcibly from his arms as he struggled to stand. A nurse tried to restrain him, but he had become, over the years, a soldier – she hadn't a chance.

His peacoat was hanging on a hook by the door. He pulled it around himself and his hospital clothes as he stumbled out the door. He didn't notice his bare feet on the cold tile, or on the hot asphalt outside. He just ran. He plowed through hedges and cars swerved out of the way as he bolted across busy streets.

Some part of him remembered the blond-haired man, and his hand on Shinji's shoulder. But he was still there. And the man had said that he, Shinjiro would be taken. So why, now, was Hamuko... But he remembered, too, her single finger pointed to the sky.

He'd been in a bed for months. His legs shouldn't be that strong. He should have atrophy, or at least be too weak to run. But nothing was going to stop him.

Her headphones were dangling around his neck.

It was graduation day. Gekkoukan High School was crowded not only with the student body and the teachers, but parents and well-wishers. The cars were all but stacked on top of each other, and many people recognized him. Some tried to stop him, to say hello, do anything. Shinji elbowed a portly kid named Nozomi in the face to get him out of the way. By the time anyone with authority had noticed him, dressed in a coat and little else, he was already storming up the stairs.

His lungs burned, his heart was weak, and he fell once, cracking his shin hard on a step. His fingers scraped against the railing and pulled him back up.

In the moments before he reached the door for roof access, he still had thoughts for what the dreams had meant. Who the other girl was, or how when he woke he knew that she was here, that she would be here and slipping through his fingers. Minato's face had already fled his memory, but he wondered if there was some other _him_, some other Shinjiro somewhere, that would endure what he had avoided.

And then he was shouldering the door open, and she was in the android's lap. Her eyes were starting to close, but he had made it, had gotten just enough time to fall to his knees before her, to grab her hands and say whatever he could say as she faded away forever.

The others were coming up the stairs behind him. Akihiko was so surprised to see him that he nearly tripped over him, coming to a stop. They had only just remembered her. They were still realizing that her sleep was one that wouldn't end.

Where he'd pulled the tubes from his arms, there were trails of blood. He looked like he'd tried to kill himself. Which he had, again and again. And now, in her peaceful and eternal face, he was finding punishment for that sin.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (?)-<strong>

The blond-haired man merely smiled at Philemon, rubbed two fingers together in that tiny violin gesture, and tilted his head slightly, as if he could hear the screams of Shinjiro Aragaki, Minato's Shinjiro Aragaki, as he kept falling and falling. A life ended in noble sacrifice, now sent down and down and down and down...

What would true Hell be like for someone like him? Perhaps a burning orphanage, being held down as a young girl was roasted alive again and again for eternity? Or perhaps just the knowledge that there was another him, one who had been given the perfect chance for happiness, and then knowing that this other him had lost it so completely?

"Check," said the blond-haired man, and he faded away. Philemon looked to the stricken Tamaki Uchida. Her soul had been saved – she would reside in Heaven forevermore with her late husband. But then, that was little better. Everyone but the blond-haired man that had sat down to cards (and, it was now abundantly obvious, chess) had lost, and lost in a way that they could not have fathomed.

Philemon could see enough of the future to see what had been wrought. The world had been saved at the cost of a man's soul, and two lives. And many more to come.

The question now, was what actions could he still take, without breaking his vow?

"Who was that? Was it really..." asked Tamaki, clutching at her arms, already starting to fade away.

Philemon shook his head. "A cypher. As he has always been."

Tamaki's last expressions were telling—a look of concern, and then joy, and then abject terror.

Philemon fluttered away, as well. There was much to do, and little human time in which to do it.

* * *

><p><strong>-2010 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

_They were taking a vote around the table in the dorm lounge, as they had once before. This time, though, her presence was taken up by Shinjiro, who'd settled into her place at the table without a glance at the others. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes. Shinjiro had listened to all of this quietly, and when the awkward silence began again to build up, he leaned forward, and told them that he was going back for her._

How could he not? He had damned himself for her sake. And of the many times that he'd damned himself, he found that this was the only one that mattered.

The Key burned in his palm. The chance to go back and change things. A second chance for her, and for his soul. Maybe this time, he could be what she deserved.

* * *

><p><strong>-2009-<strong>

"Man, Shinjiro-senpai. It's like you're holding up that wall, the way you lean against it all of the time." Junpei grinned at the upperclassman, and received a glower in return.

"Leave him alone, Stupei." Yukari opened one of the boxes of delivery Chinese food and eyed the contents. "Who ordered this?"

Koromaru barked. "Koro-chan says that Shinjiro-senpai asked for that beef on his behalf." Aigis took the carton and headed for the kitchen to find a bowl to scoop it into. The dog followed behind her, wagging his tail.

"You and Koro-chan really get along, huh?" Ken was eying him with suspicion. Shinji just shrugged.

"He's the only one who'd put up with him." Akihiko gave a little smile to his old friend, spearing a piece of pork with a chopstick just before Junpei could get to it.

Minato, who had been munching on Teriyaki chicken very quietly through all of this, glanced up through his hair. "Wouldn't that be putting yourself on the dog's level, senpai?" Junpei tried to cover a laugh by coughing loudly into his fist. Aki frowned at him.

Shinjiro walked slowly up behind Minato, and then grabbed the box of chicken from him. He sniffed at it. "This is all MSG." He dropped it in Minato's lap. "At least the dog's smarter than most of you."

"Most?" Yukari muttered.

Shinji shook his head. "He's the only one who gets it." When he'd fought off the Shadow at the shrine, and taken that wicked slash across his belly, Koromaru had been willing to die. Had accepted it bravely. He had known loss, and did not despair for living on borrowed time. Shinjiro wasn't sure if he was like the dog, or wished to be.

Mitsuru, who was working on the computer behind the front desk, didn't look up. "Judging from the state of that coat, I'd imagine what you both 'have' is fleas, Shinji."

Junpei couldn't hold it in anymore. _Mitsuru_ being the one to burn him caused a laughing fit that slid him right off the couch onto the floor.

Fuuka, though, looked at Shinji strangely. She had been doing that a lot more, lately. "Koro-chan always seems so happy. He's willing to fight, but I think he's glad to get a second chance at life." What, was she a mind-reader, now? He glared at the frail girl, but Minato cleared his throat, still wiping bits of chicken off of his school uniform pants.

"We could ask him, you know. Through Aigis."

Yukari rolled her eyes. "You're always going to her for everything, these days." Minato looked at her, confused, and she huffed.

Aigis was returning with the bowl, Koromaru jogging circles around her. Fuuka turned to them. "Koro-chan, what's the meaning of life?"

Koro barked. Aigis just stared, in that non-blinking way that she had. "He says that it is good food."

Fuuka, who had caught Shinji in the lounge with a cooking magazine, just chuckled. "Well, we can all agree on _that_."

Minato looked at Shinji, perhaps only to avoid Yukari's death-glare. "Well? What's your answer to the same question?"

Shinjiro, who didn't have an answer, just turned away. "To get by without getting asked dumb questions."

"Funny." Aki sat back. "I thought all humans were good for was asking dumb questions. That's how we tend to solve things."

"I guess that makes Stupei a philosopher." Yukari threw a balled up napkin at Junpei, who caught it in midair.

"Stop _calling_ me that!"

Shinjiro Aragaki left the lounge, and headed up the many flights of stairs to the roof, where his ashtray sat. He lit a cigarette and looked up at the sky.

The door creaked behind him, and he turned. It was Ikutski, who adjusted his glasses. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was up here..." Shinji glared at him. He didn't know how much of what Strega said was real and how much was bunk, but he didn't trust the man an inch. "Yes, well... I see that you got high so that you could smoke... Oh! That's a good one!" He made that dopey grin of his. "I'll have to remember that..."

"Uh-huh." Shinjiro flicked ash. "So, Chairman... since you're so full of good ideas tonight... what's the meaning of life?"

The way Ikutski's face tensed, for just a moment, was worth noting. "I'm not sure that life _has_ a purpose, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "I suppose that doesn't sound right, does it?" Shinjiro crossed his arms. "Well... I think we all have to do good... Ah!" He smiled. "We have to give meaning to death. I suppose that's how I'd put it. Some try to do so by doing the most good, some try by dying with things, or power... yes, I think it's giving meaning to death." He seemed satisfied with himself. "Thank you, Shinjiro. I'm going to think about that one."

When he'd left, Shinji sat on the edge of the roof and considered how frustrating it was that the Chairman had said what made the most sense to him. That was almost enough to swerve him from the path that he was on.

But, he mused, to find meaning in death was to put death above living, and that was already what he'd done. As his cigarette burned down and the night grew darker, Shinji wondered if there could be another way to give meaning to death. If he had the right to dare suggest that his death could do more than put a single boy's mind to rest.

Rather than stub the butt out into the ashtray, he flicked it off into the night. In the end, he figured, it probably wouldn't matter.


	11. Author's Notes, 6 and 7

**Author's Notes, III:**

Welcome back! Hope you've enjoyed _Innocent Sin_ in the time between chapters. A request to my readers: I've been gratified to have my story listed on TV Tropes for P3 and P4... but since the Remixed edition began, I've been hoping someone would update those entries to note that the story is once again ongoing. I would never ask people to add material on Tropes - that's always up to the reader - but if they could make the _correction_, that'd be great.

And away we go:**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Six:<em>

-And so here you see my compromise: in Hamuko's timeline, Vincent did indeed live in Iwatodai, whereas in Minato's, he lived in America. We can guess that Vincent received True Lover's Ending in Minato's timeline, and now we know that the "alternate ending" of the Babel stages happened in the other. What prompted Vincent's geographic switch? We'll hopefully get to that. As I said before, this is an imperfect compromise. Obviously, in _P3P_, Minato can meet Vincent as well – and Babel does not _exactly_ occur within a telling of _Catherine_'s events. It is, however, the only way to make things as workable as they are now. I hope this is a level of indulgence that keeps the story moving in an acceptable way.

-Some people have said that my Tatsuya is too, I dunno, boisterous. I'm not sure I agree, but I'd point out that we don't actually know much about this Tatsuya, after the events of _Persona 2_. I do think we have to believe that he's happier than he was in _Eternal Punishment_, even if what happened to him was very sad.

-There have been some extraordinary stories about Aigis and Teddie meeting, and I cannot hope to top them, but I notice that rarely do they meet in a way where Aigis is initially hostile. Aigis grew a lot in the final act of _Persona 3_, as well as The Answer, and she is no unthinking weapon – and I do believe that she has mixed feelings about Ryoji (and arguably Metis). But humans act on instinct, especially when that instinct lines up with their "programming," and I think that the idea that she'd register a Shadow as a threat first isn't unreasonable. That she is eventually able to look past that is what proves that she's growing.

-I can't really get into it in this story, but the idea of Baofu and Ulala having to struggle as an agency because the Kuzunohas and/or Shiroganes are too good at their job would make a great story on its own, I think.

-Yeah, I'd say that in the "new" timeline, Yukino and Shunsuke finally make it work.

-Honestly, Katsuya showed Nanjou and Elly a lot of deference in _Eternal Punishment_. But Kei _is_ an arrogant prick, and I don't doubt that Katsuya kept half an eye on them. He could just leave it to Baofu to voice the paranoia for all of them.

-"Wouldn't Nanjou know who Tatsuya is?" Yes, obviously. But if it's an undercover operation, then Tatsuya is no doubt wearing a disguise. More to the point, the operation wasn't supposed to be Tatsuya in the first place, and Katsuya has no way of telling his brother "He already knows who you are!" without giving the game away. He's trapped, basically.

-If there was no clearer sign that this story does not take _P4UM_ into account, it's that the Personas, and the last uses of them, take into account facts that we knew before that game was announced. At the time that I'm writing this, it's not clear why things in the TV world are the way that they are in that game, let alone what will happen in that game's story, and I'm choosing not to think about it. Most fic for continuing stories gets canceled out eventually.

-So, it's clear now for followers of the original "After the End" series that a lot of this chapter was originally going to be written for the infamous "Aeon/Judgment" chapter that never materialized. It was too much all at once to frame in my head, dealing with Aigis/Teddie and Margaret/Theodore and making a single comprehensible short story out of it. Here, able to mix it with the other subplots and dole it out in a few short scenes at a time, I'm having a much better time of it. Because of this, though, I'm probably not spending as much time on the adventures of the Velvet Siblings on the road in the real world as they probably deserve. They could easily fill out many chapters of a story on their own, and it would destroy what little pacing this story has. I'm hoping that the middle ground is engaging for readers as-is.

-Hey, yeah, why _did_ Igor and Margaret go to the school festival? Aside from "because it was funny?"

-All theorizing about how the Velvet Siblings exist in time is my own, but shares ideas with a number of other fan theories.

-That Kashihara still had anything to do with Okamura and the Sudou family in the revised timeline is my own invention, but given the way things played out, it's not an unreasonable idea, considering here the man does the right thing and re-devotes himself to Jun, who didn't have his Masked Circle playmates this time around. The idea that Sudou and Saga once may have faced each other in a courtroom is my playful indulgence, but it makes for a great image.

-More to the point, though – yes, time is shifting. It's a testament to the comparative sizes in Western audience between _Persona 2_ and _P3_/_P4_ that nobody seemed to notice that the timeline was seemingly off. Based on Todoroki's notes in _Innocent Sin_, if nothing else, the game must have taken place in 1999. If that's the case, then (for instance) the event at Smile Mall that was previously portrayed in this story (a possible birth of the "Shadows" as we know them in later games) may have occurred at the exact same moment as the Nyx Avatar breaking loose from the Kirijo labs. The other chronology and ages, though, might not line up quite right that way. Aside from being a plot point in this story, the time hiccups may explain any discrepancies in the timeline. Got it? Got it.

-I haven't said anything about how I've used Teddie and Metis in this story, and I'm not sure that I need to. You're either with the theory, or you're not. If you're not, I hope it doesn't damage your opinion of the story too heavily.

–The Amala Network, of course, is from _Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne_, and as it represents the flow of Magatsuhi, it has to be at least "next door" to the collective unconscious, if it isn't that itself. It is also Hell, in some fashion, obviously, but we know most significantly that it's a nexus that touches all parallel realities. Whatever brought the Velvet Siblings there, it's arguably exactly what they wanted. Be careful what you wish for!

-People who wrote in, the last time around, were angrier at me about Adachi dying than anything else that I did in any story. First of all, I take issue that we should mourn a barely repentant killer over someone like Tamaki Uchida. That _said_, please maybe hang on and see where the story is going. Everything has a reason, okay?

-The lyrics to the Karukozaka High School song were taken directly from the "Persona Thief" quest contained on the PSP version of _Persona 2: Innocent Sin_ – my dream of a tie-in quest to this story was, as everyone knows by now, dashed entirely with the removal of the quest creator from English language versions of the game. Boo! That said, at least the quests that we _did_ get provided me with a better way of writing this tragic moment – a story decision that I've always felt guilty about. She deserves better – but sometimes stories are like that.

-People responded well to "The Eagle and the Butterfly" - for which I've always been grateful – but it was labeled in at least one place as a "Fix Fic," which I always objected to. That sort of thing implies that I thought there was something wrong with how _Persona 3_ ended. Nothing could be further from the truth. And especially, once I added other stories to After the End, I felt that you couldn't consider this situation a fix at all. Minato looks young, and has returned years too late. Yukari is old. This is an awful thing, and the gravity of it mattered to me. I was worried, the first time through, that the time slip didn't really register because of the split stories. That he arrived in 2011, but we didn't see him until later. The addition of the timestamps, and his vocalizing the problem, hopefully makes the situation clearer. This isn't going to be easy for them.

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 7:<em>

-This story marks the inclusion of the last two stories from the old version of After the End. Sharp-eyed readers may notice some bits here and there from the old stories that are still missing – largely Yukari and Minato's reunion – but for the most part, we're catching up to what had been done in the past. That said, I have a lot of material that didn't get published last time around, and I'm looking forward to that material getting seen for the first time, but the other side of this argument is that with all-new content being the majority from here on out, my production rate will likely slow down. I hope you all can bear with me as we slowly get closer to the big confrontation.

-This chapter required substantial revision on my part. While these sequences had some bits that were highly regarded (the dance in Tartarus, Reiji and Miki), they also had the ones I was least happy with, and had my biggest mistakes. The first one, obviously, is the relationship Reiji has with his family. I was basing things on incomplete information. Having seen the material now with my own eyes, I went in a different direction that was, I think, truer and more fair. In the process, I found myself with a really funny idea for the future that I hope I'll get to share with you eventually.

-Mistake #2: my timeline for the events of the first _Persona_ were out-of-whack. As both quests have to occur (and both are "canonical,") you have to coordinate who is where and when in order for them both to make sense, and my original take just did not fit the facts at all. Hopefully the revision here reads more sensibly, based on what we know. "Earring" must be in the school, and so must Nanjou, though he's wounded. Brown can't ever make it to the police station. Reiji, of course, is already in the "Ideal" world.

-The currently-available translation of _Eternal Punishment_ lists Reiji's son's name as "Takashi." I don't know Japanese names well enough to understand if this is a deliberate change in meaning, while keeping the intent. Given everything that happens and the tone of the dialogue in both the Nanjou route and Nanjou's reaction to the name, it's clear that Reiji is naming the boy after Kandori. Given how awkward naming schemes are in the current _Eternal Punishment_ ("Chris," etc.), I've opted to make the boy's name "Takahisa," which is Kandori's actual name. Whether my change is correct or not, the _intent_ is clearly the same. Mark's comment about the baby is in the ending titles of the first _Persona_.

-I'd never intended to make Reiji a cheater, although some people thought the original version of the story made him out that way. Nuh-uh. He loves that boy, and he'd never put the kid through what _he_ went through – remember, Reiji's whole deal was fighting for his mother's honor. Nor did I ever want to imply that Yukki being a little flirtatious with Reiji was at all inappropriate. She's happily married. She's just trying to get through to the lunkhead with whatever it takes. Hopefully you can see him a little better this time around.

-An addendum to that second mistake is located in the poker scene – now all nine of them are there, even if they don't all get dialogue.

-As mentioned before... Obviously, we cannot assume that the events of _Devil Survivor_ and _Strange Journey_ happened exactly the way that their games played out. The events, though, were likely similar enough to be recognizable. To that end, the demon relationships within the Schwartzwelt were likely the same – hence, the relation of familiar details here.

-And now we come to "the timeline." Ah, yes. Well... here was also, apparently, an area where I needed to make some adjustments. Exactly what had been changed prior to the _Devil Summoner_ titles, and what did Raidou himself change? It's not clear. As it is, Raidou the Fortieth suggests that Raidou the Fourteenth actually _preserved_ the original timeline – which we know isn't true.

-The timeline itself – the events as described in the main timeline are a little awkward, when you consider how often the world is destroyed and reincarnated. But what we know is that such a thing does NOT happen in the "Persona Timeline." Except, arguably, in _Persona 2_.

-All of Tamaki's "research material," of course, are works that either inspired, or were very similar to, various elements of a MegaTen title.

-The, uh, "blond-haired man" offered quite a bit of help to Raidou the XIVth in the second Raidou title, at least.


	12. Theory and Practice

**-2008-**

A police officer named Tatsuya Suou was hiking up the side of Mt. Katatsumuri on his day off, when he bumped into a monk.

This wasn't as random as it might seem; the mountain was home to a quiet beautiful monastery, actually, where young disciples learned the martial arts. When he was a teenager, Tatsuya had read about the monastery in an issue of _Coolest_ – the pictures had been extraordinary, enough to catch the eye of even a slightly-jaded biker kid. This monk, however, was not wearing the traditional robes of that monastery. For that matter, he was wearing sneakers and smoking a fat cigar.

"How ya doin', kid?" The monk nodded to Tatsuya. "Enjoying the nature walk?"

"Uh... yes. Yes, I am." Weird to be called "kid" at his age, but the monk certainly had some years on him. He strolled over, glancing over at what had the monk's attention – a plaque referring to the many guardian deity figurines scattered around the mountain. "Are you from around here, yourself?"

"Nah. The head monk higher up is an old friend of mine." He offered a hand. "Mutatsu."

He shook it. "Tatsuya."

"Good strong name." Mutatsu nodded. "Nah, I'm just here on a visit, and I thought I'd walk around for a while and soak it all in. Do you know the story behind these little statues?" Tatsuya shook his head – but there was a part of him that wondered if maybe he _had_ heard it, and perhaps just forgotten? "Well, story goes, a traveling monk – and no, before you ask, it wasn't me – he pitied the souls of children who had died while wandering lost through this forest."

Mutatsu found a nearby rock and eased himself down. "Hold on, hold on." He stretched out his legs. "God, I'm old." He put a fresh cigar up to his lips. "Got a light, kid?" Tatsuya fished in his pockets. "Never mind, never mind, I've got it." He lit the cigar and took a few puffs, testing it out. "Right, where was I? Oh, yeah. So, the monk stayed in the forest and carved all these little guardians, the Sae-no-kami, to keep the children company, protect their spirits, until they found their way out of the forest. The children, though, wanted the monk to stay with them in the forest forever. And when the six deities had their carvings finished, the children were able to find their way home, but the monk couldn't. Because for every prayer the monk made for the children's souls to leave in peace, a prayer to match came from the children for him to stay."

"It's a sad story." Tatsuya sat down on the grass beside the monk, tried to enjoy the mountain breeze.

"What's the lesson?"

"Hm." Tatsuya looked up at the sky. "I suppose that children can be cruel, even in their innocence."

Mutatsu snickered. "That's the official line, anyway."

"What's your take on it?"

Mutatsu flicked some ash. "I'd say the message is, 'No good deed goes unpunished.' What do you think?"

Tatsuya smiled, looked at the old monk. "I'd say that you sound like my father."

The monk's expression darkened. "Perhaps it's best you be moving on."

There was a flower by Mutatsu's feet. Tatsuya reached over, picked it and held it up. "What... what is this flower?" A familiar bloom, with long, pink petals.

Mutatsu frowned. "Aster Tataricus. Means 'I won't forget you.' Not the right time of year for it, either."

Tatsuya spun the stem in his fingers. A single tear formed at the corner of one eye, and he wasn't sure why.

* * *

><p><strong>Persona: After The End<strong>

**-An Apocrypha-**

_(This story was written before the release of P4:G and P4UM)_

**Chapter Eight: Theory and Practice (For Want of a Nail)**

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

The first full sign that something was wrong, was when Kanji Tatsumi's corpse was found strung upside-down from the torii at the entrance to the shrine in the Inaba shopping district.

Souji Seta stared at the body from the other side of the police cordon. In the middle of the town's dying commercial zone, there was no real way to hide it from the people until it had been taken down. Souji's uncle and his young partner were arguing up at the front of the crowd, and behind him Yosuke Hanamura was seething in rage. Chie had taken Yukiko away from the scene – she'd known Kanji growing up, and it had all been too much for her.

Souji shook his head as the tall teenager's body was carefully lifted by a pair of firefighters who had been called in. Just like the others, there were no visible wounds, no clear sign of what had killed him. He could hear housewives gossiping – he'd been a delinquent boy, but he'd been strong enough to battle with biker gangs. What could have done such a thing to him? But Souji knew the answer to that question.

Tatsumi had been lost in the Midnight Channel, and Souji and his friends had been unable to find him.

"How did this happen?" Yosuke asked him. Souji looked down. They had figured out that Kanji was the next victim, but that was as far as they'd managed to go. His abrasive personality had kept scaring them off, and when he was taken, they didn't know enough about him for Teddie to pinpoint his location in the fog. Who was Kanji Tatsumi? A thug, maybe. A good son, possibly. His mother had made a scarf for Mayumi Yamano. It... just hadn't been much to _go_ on.

Dojima waved off the crowd as the body was loaded into an ambulance. Nobody, not even Souji Seta, saw Tohru Adachi's slight smile.

* * *

><p>When the Investigation Team went to go talk to Rise Kujikawa, it was Yukiko who stayed with the boys, and desperately tried to convince the pop idol of the danger. She had been more sullen and reserved, after Kanji had died, and she was all but frantic, knocking over wrapped blocks of tofu as she tried to grab at Rise's shirt. Between her, and Yosuke's addled fanboy attitude, Rise did not trust them a whit (even if the taller boy, the quiet one with the silver hair, was – she had to admit – pretty darned cute).<p>

Detective Adachi was loitering around outside the tofu shop, and the kids and Adachi both saw the stalker at the same time. They gave chase, but the boys couldn't quite catch up with him, and when he turned a corner he was gone. Had it been the killer? Adachi put out an APB. The Investigation Team began to assume, and so their theorizing went way off course.

With no potential suspect in lock-up, Dojima's off-and-on Papa Bear attitude grew stricter at home. The police investigation was split, with many considering it now a full-on manhunt for the suspicious photographer. And Souji was always acting so strange... Dojima finally banned him from leaving the house at night – for his safety, if nothing else. Nanako was horrified, and she believed in her Big Bro, but she was also a responsible and obedient daughter. She was all but a watchdog in the Dojima house.

When Rise was taken, Souji and the rest of his team decided to cut class to go into the television. Kanji had been the third body, and a fourth had already turned up – their homeroom teacher, Kinshiro Morooka. The class trip had been canceled, and the students asked to stay in their homes for the weekend. When they returned to school the following Monday, "King Moron" was just gone. They couldn't afford to let anyone else die.

They had been getting nowhere. They had to act – never mind the consequences.

* * *

><p>In the Marukyu Striptease, Rise was at the mercy of her Shadow when the team stormed in, knocking aside the pink-and-purple curtains. They were too late to prevent Rise from denying her Shadow, and it grew into a writhing behemoth – one that could sense their every move. It fell upon the bravery of the timid and innocent Teddie to save them... only for Teddie's own Shadow to emerge from the darkness, spurred on by Rise's self-doubt.<p>

Souji Seta and his friends were a man short already in the battle, but that was only part of the problem. No, Rise's earlier doubts and distrust were _not_ enough to change who she was as a person – or, for that matter, to wipe clear the image of Souji emerging with his golf club held high, like an avenging knight. But they _were_ enough to cause a moment's hesitation.

That moment was enough.

Teddie's Shadow had massive ice powers, and the extraordinarily deadly Nihil Hand, a savage blast of pure dark energy that could not be shielded against. The latter sent the team reeling, which prevented them from blocking the former. Yukiko Amagi was encased from head to toe in ice... and shattered with one swipe of the Shadow's claw.

By the time Rise was coordinating the team, Souji, Yosuke, and Chie were battered and bloody. They pulled out a victory over the massive feral bear, but it was close and desperate – and they had lost one of their number.

Chie withdrew into herself at first, and Souji attended to her. Rise followed Souji like a wounded puppy. She was still in love with her precious senpai, but there was none of the bubbly, romantic idol left in her. There was only a shroud of guilt, and an empty core. Yosuke prowled the streets, and he was a wild animal, slamming classmates into walls and demanding answers to his questions.

Dojima relaxed his grounding of Souji at first, sympathetic to Chie's loss, but Yosuke's rage left him marked as a delinquent trouble-maker by the Inaba PD, and Souji was ordered not to associate with him. They'd already gotten in trouble with the police once that year, for waving swords about in a public place. Souji resented the commands, and the delicate balance in the Dojima home started to fray. Souji answered questions wrong, and Nanako started to resent the father who was never home, as well.

And then Mitsuo Kubo's identity became clear. Adachi no doubt helped spur them on, but everyone remembered the way the troubled student from a rival school had pursued Yukiko, the way he'd creeped them all out. Souji couldn't keep Yosuke and Chie under control, and the trip into Kubo's section of the Midnight Channel, a game-like environment called Void Quest, threatened at any moment to fall into a bloodbath.

* * *

><p>…<em>We hold our heads in regret<em>

_Until the dawn  
>Nobody comes<br>Let the butterflies spread until the dawn..._

It should not be a surprise, really, what happened.

Yosuke took one look at Mitsuo Kubo, and did not give him the chance to deny his Shadow, to give it power and individuality. Instead, he took his two kunai and rammed them hard into Kubo's chest.

Souji moved forward to stop him, but nobody else did. They wanted it to be over. They had lost too much. Chie dropped to her knees and threw up, but as she wiped at her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket – the jacket that Yukiko had given her so long ago – there was a cold fire there, a resolve. Rise collapsed into herself. Teddie said nothing, just shook in place.

When they emerged in the electronics department of Junes, they had brought the body with them. They did not have an investigator on their side, they were all known for cutting class, swinging weapons in a department store... And Dojima had suspected his troubled nephew since almost the minute he'd arrived in town. Souji had not bonded with his uncle, had not made them meals and rebuilt the relationship between Dojima and his daughter.

Instead, Souji and Yosuke were found in Junes with the corpse of a serial killer. Yosuke was covered in blood. Chie and Rise were crying, slumped on the floor by the television.

Honestly, what would you have done, if you were Detective Ryotaro Dojima? What would you have thought?

* * *

><p>Every change in our lives, every action we take makes ripples that are felt in ways that we could never expect.<p>

It is not that Naoto Shirogane was more special than any other member of the Inaba Investigation Team. It is as Igor had told Souji once, in a dream. It is the bonds that we forge. Every person is valuable, and the loss of them changes us. Take any one member out, and see how things collapse. Without Yosuke, they would never dare to enter the television in the first place, and certainly not together, as a team. Without Chie, or Yukiko, the other would fall. Without Kanji, the group spins apart, chasing dead leads, and Naoto is viewed as an enemy. And without Souji, of course, the whole thing never happens at all. A different person is chosen by Izanami, and her victory is assured.

This is the world that Hamuko Arisato built. A world without Naoto, as in a world without any given one of them, is one where the world dies.

Not that Hamuko could have known. She hadn't even known her parents; they were indistinct memories, buried beneath the incarnation of death that had been trapped within her. By the time that she had known who and what she was, her own fate had been, if one will pardon the word choice... sealed.

It was a different world, with Hamuko Arisato in it; though she could hardly be held to blame for it. If anything, her birth was something of an innocent sin – and not hers, but her mother's; Yui Shirogane's desire for a daughter, wholly innocent and understandable, unwittingly damning.

* * *

><p>Tohru Adachi slid into a seat across the table from Souji Seta. "Hey, kid. How are you doing?" Souji just stared at the young detective, who chuckled. They were in the interrogation room. Yosuke was all but catatonic in one of the holding cells further back in the building. "I just wanted to say something to you, while we could still talk."<p>

Souji blinked slowly. Everything had fallen apart, and Souji was finding it hard to care.

Adachi waited for a suitably dramatic few moments, and then grinned. "Gotcha."

At first, the high school boy didn't understand. And then he did. He jerked his arms, but they were handcuffed to the table.

"Now now, none of that. Your uncle slugged you pretty good, you don't want another one of those." Adachi clucked his tongue and wagged a finger. "I just thought, you know, there's no point in being a sore winner." He leaned in. "Did you dream about her, too?"

Souji was still struggling against his bonds. Adachi sighed.

"Please, don't make this harder than it has to be." He put his feet up on the table. "I've got to hand it to you. You kids were tougher than I thought you'd be. You got pretty far along. You failed, but you tried _real_ hard. Most kids these days, they're so _lazy_." Adachi waggled his feet at the captive. "You're strong. You'll do okay in prison. Hell! You'll probably be running it in a week." The detective gave Souji an innocent look over the tips of his shoes. "I can't say the same for your bum-buddy in the cell, though."

Souji stood, kicking his chair back. He screamed incoherently, and tried to swing his leg up and around the chain to kick at the serial killer. Adachi laughed and leaned back just far enough.

"Whoa, whoa! A little hostile! You're not taking this game in the right spirit, you know? What do you want me to do, strangle Hanamura with my tie while we're transferring him out?" There was a serious edge in Adachi's voice that wasn't there before, and Souji stopped short, breathing heavily.

"Why," he growled, and the detective told him. He told him everything.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

"Well, gee, Ai-chan, I'm awful sorry about getting your dress dirty." Teddie laid back and looked at the perfect clouds of his world.

"It is of no concern." Aigis, for her part, was still studying the strange Shadow. He was no longer in his original shape – he had shed the ursine form and now looked human. Looked, in fact, quite beautiful, in a way that was instantly recognizable, despite their different features, as the same strange beauty that Ryoji once had. It was very peculiar to view a Shadow this way, even now, and it was a strange thing to process. It was strange enough, in fact, that like herself, he looked even then like a teenager, despite living an adult's number of years. "It is an old dress, that I only use now to sleep in."

Teddie bolted upright. "Reeeeaaalllly?" His eyes widened. "I am beholding the luminous Ai-chan in her pretty PJ's?" He mocked fainting. "My life, it has been worth it."

They had worked their way first to an awkward détente, and then finally, when they had both convinced each other that they were no threat, the explanations had slowly come. Aigis had been concerned about returning to Yukari before she worried, but Teddie assured her that he could keep track of time's strange flow within his realm, and so they had finally agreed to just sit and talk.

Teddie opened a cooler that he had brought from the human world, and offered her a Topsicle, which was actually a food that Aigis could eat somewhat properly – she couldn't swallow too much organic matter at once without flushing clean, but her tongue was able to approximate human taste... at least in theory. Junpei had insisted that her tongue did not work right, as she enjoyed the minute samples of cooking that she could process from both Yukari and Fuuka. So she held the Topsicle carefully, and they took turns asking questions about what it was like to be not-quite-human in a human's world.

It was nice – was, maybe, one of the nicest days that she'd experienced since Minato had become the Seal.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever meet someone else who knew how I feel, Ai-chan." Teddie hugged his knees.

"I _did_ meet two people who knew how I felt. And both of them are now gone."

"What happened to them?"

Aigis smoothed out her old dress. "One of them, I helped kill. The other..." She looked at Teddie. She wondered, actually, what Metis would have thought of him. She gave him a reassuring smile, but didn't finish her sentence.

"I hope you can meet all my friends. Sensei, and Rise-chan, and Yosuke, and..." Teddie trailed off. "But they don't seem to get along as well as they used to." He pouted. "I don't understand. I thought that we'd all be together forever, but..."

Aigis stood up on tottering legs. "Someone taught me, a long time ago, that being human means understanding that all things end in time. It is true that I wished to see him tonight, but I know that his leaving us was the right thing. I have promised to honor his memory in moving on." She offered Teddie a hand and helped him up. "My friends, as well, have grown distant from each other over the years. That a... a bond cannot be broken, does not mean that it cannot be stretched or strained. And..." She smiled. "And we can always forge new ones, more new ones every day." She looked out at the sprawling fields. "Will you show me your world?"

Teddie giggled. "Well, let it never be said that I'm a bear who doesn't know how to treat a lady on a date!" He linked arms with her and they took new steps. Aigis, for her part, was charmed, but... was he serious that they were on a _date_?

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Chie Satonaka had always wanted to be a superhero. From when she was small, she'd dedicated herself to protecting the weak, and maybe not always in the smartest or most effective ways, but her good heart (and legs that were deadly weapons) had carried her through her life. It was why she'd taken in the Junes boy, whom the town hated, and it was why she'd gone along with his insane plan to find the killer of Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi. When Yukiko had been thrown into the television, things had become personal, and that was that.

Now, though, things were very different. Souji and Yosuke were locked up tight. Yosuke would almost certainly get the death penalty; the only question for the courts seemed to be how significant of an accomplice Souji had been. Yukiko was dead. Chie had been deemed a victim, and had gone along with it—the only way she could imagine to, at the time, find a way to get the boys free. But in the light of day, it was clear how impossible that would be. She had lost them all, Rise's old manager had made sure that she was viewed as a victim as well—celebrity was useful that way—and nobody wanted to suspect a pair of teen girls, anyway. Rise was still in town, but it wasn't sure for how long.

A blessing came when Teddie came to their world. He had, through sheer force of will, forged himself a human body so that he could be with the girls. Teddie was meek, there were no bad jokes or talks of 'scoring.' He still spoke in bear puns, yes, but there was little joy in it – that was apparently how his brain worked, and so they quickly grew to ignore it.

What was there to do, after what had happened? Chie and Rise were torn up with survivor's guilt, with rage and despair, and in grasping for straws they finally settled on figuring out why things were the way they were. They went over all of the facts they had, hoping to figure out what the Midnight Channel was and why it had come to exist. Chie also knew that she was the one who had brought up the cursed rumor in the first place. She felt conned, and wanted to strike back somehow. Some way.

In going over the facts again, though, they came to one inescapable conclusion. Nothing lined up if Mitsuo Kubo was the killer. But the idea that Kubo had killed anyone but their teacher King Moron... it was too large to accept. The idea that things had gone so badly for nothing, or close to it... they refused to believe.

Time passed, and the school trip came around. Chie and Rise were to go to Iwatodai, to Tatsumi Port Island, with the rest of their class. Numbly, they climbed onto the train with everyone else. They sat together, and the other students made jokes—apparently Yukiko's death was already out of their minds. Rise would just place her head against the window and stare at the passing cities. Chie chewed away at her thumbs.

When they arrived at Iwatodai station, they were so out of it that as they milled about in the mass of students, they didn't realize that they were being watched. A man in a peacoat, and his dog, were both keeping a close eye on them from across the plaza.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Yukari just sat, fists both clenched around her coffee mug like a lifeline, as she watched him sleep on the couch. She wasn't sure how she'd even been able to get him inside and upstairs, but she had, and now he was laid out on the couch, still in his old Gekkoukan uniform, dozing like he had during dozens of class periods back when they'd all been younger and happier.

All of them but him, anyway. Minato Arisato, still in the body of a high schooler. With even the same headphones, which she'd coiled up and left on the coffee table next to him. He shifted slightly, as if to remind her that he was real, and alive, and bound to wake up sooner or later.

She should call them. Any of them, all of them. Mitsuru, and Junpei, everyone. But she was terrified, that if she looked away from him for a second, he'd vanish again into thin air. Had Aigis done this? Was this why she was gone? Could correlation be causation in this case?

Minato rolled over in his sleep. He was mumbling something.

She eased over, as quietly as possible. Her hands were shaking. Did his being back mean the Seal had broken? Did this... time slippage... mean that they were all in danger, somehow? Surely it couldn't have just been a miracle.

She crooked her ear. Most of it was indistinct, but one word was clear enough to make out.

"_Hamuko_."

And God help her, she actually felt jealous.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Kashiwagi, their homeroom teacher, managed to put the student body in a love hotel for the night, of all places. Chie just grabbed Rise by her shirt and hissed, "Get us out of here."

Neither of them felt up for much in the way of partying, but one of the few places that Rise knew that was open at that hour was Club Escapade, in the Paulownia Mall. Rise had gotten them fake ID's, long before the trip, and they both grabbed strong drinks and hid away in the upper level booth.

The club still served alcohol. Hidetoshi Odagiri wasn't on the road on the night when the drunk driver left the club, because his own life had changed. The change saved his life. He didn't go out as often as he would have, because he was still mourning a former classmate whom he had fallen in love with, a classmate that had died on the roof of their school on graduation day. Odagiri would get over things in time, but that night he just hadn't felt like leaving home.

Because of this, Chie and Rise were pretty well blitzed when Mitsuru Kirijo and Shinjiro Aragaki entered the club and sat in their booth.

Naoto was not there, to play a cat and mouse game with Mitsuru, and so she was not as confident that the situation would be handled – or maybe the higher bodycount was enough to get her to step in. That Shinjiro invited himself along was more inexplicable. Perhaps he just had a thing, now, for rescuing girls in trouble, like it would make up for the past. Or maybe the resolve that he found within the Abyss of Time had formed him into something more like an active "hero." Or maybe, just being around, he wasn't going to trust Mitsuru to handle anything – it wasn't like Akihiko was going to stand in her way.

Shinjiro crossed his arms, looked at the pop idol. "I've... always been a big fan of yours." Ken had tried to take up Hamuko's slack, teaching him to open up.

Rise slurred her words. "Oh, eh? Howzabout you and we play the King's Game?"

Shinji blanched. He knew what that was. One time, he, Mitsuru, and Akihiko had...

Mitsuru cleared her throat. "We know what you've been doing. We want to help you."

"Gotta Recarm spell up your ass, do ya?" Chie tried to remember how westerners flipped people off, but held up the wrong finger. Unfortunately, the image came off entirely wrong to the two former members of SEES, and Mitsuru had to clamp a hand on Shinjiro's knee, so he didn't do something stupid. "Nothin' you can do will fix this."

Mitsuru had been trying to figure out a way to get Souji Seta and his partner out of prison before the worst happened. So far, their efforts had been fruitless. Some people were advocating a full-scale jailbreak, but that would cost the Kirijo Group everything. That said, there _were_ things that she could do for them.

She looked to Shinjiro, who nodded once. He would get Akihiko and Ken, and they would go to assist.

Their team was stronger, closer-knit, despite what happened in the Abyss of Time. Hamuko had been close to each of them, had drawn them all together. They all wanted to work together—for _her_ sake.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

_Don'tsayscoringdon'tsayscoringdon'tsayscoring..._

Teddie was living his dream. There he was, with a beautiful girl (okay, not _precisely_ human, which is what he'd expected, but she was at _least_ as close as he was, so all was good on that front) on his arm, strolling through some of the most beautiful places of his world. And she knew what _he_ was, and she... well, it wasn't that she didn't care, because it had definitely bothered her at first, but she was coming to accept it, and that was surely all he could ask for. No, this was ranking up high on the best moments of all time – up there with the weekend of the pageant, and even the night when Sensei had accepted him for what he truly was – when he'd figured out even more than the others had, even Nao-chan, and still welcomed him with open arms.

So he was, in his mind at least, desperately flailing about, trying to prevent himself from screwing this one up. He _knew_ he had the capacity to get this right, _knew_ that if Sensei could do it, so could he – he wasn't a young bear anymore, he was world-wise, at least more than he used to be – he just had to, to show the right sides of himself to Ai-chan. And hey! That's what Personas were, right? As an _experienced_ Persona user, certainly Teddie could manage that.

He remembered the one piece of advice that Sensei had given him on that sad day when he and Rise had left town, after the wedding: "Whatever Yosuke tells you, just do the opposite, and you'll be fine."

They were down by one of the lakes, where the water was so clear that even at its center, you could peer straight to the bottom. There were fish-like things there again – more and more types of life kept finding their way back, every time Teddie returned here. He pointed them out, and she watched with fascination.

"I remember the first time I saw fish." She touched her lips. "It was Yakushima. I had left the lab without supervision. It was the day that I met him again... after ten years... I was just standing on the pier, looking out at the life beneath the surface." She was smiling. "I was trying to figure something out. A memory. At the time, I thought it was data corruption. I was trying to understand that I had buried something within him, that it was swimming around inside of him."

That Teddie had met the boy she was talking about had been the strangest twist of all. Sometimes he worried, the way she talked about him, that she thought of him the way that Rise-chan thought of Sensei. But then he thought about how he'd met that boy, and he understood that it was more like the way Yosuke sometimes thought of Saki Konishi, who'd been thrown into the TV. An important memory. Teddie didn't have important memories of anything earlier than when Sensei first came into his world – just that it had once been like it now was. But from the time he had met his friends... those memories he cherished, especially as they got farther away. He let her remember, and when she turned back to him, she looked grateful – but was still focused on him.

Maybe he had a chance, after all!

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Junpei had taken Chidori to see specialists some distance away – it was decided best not to call him unless it was absolutely needed. Yukari and Aigis, though, boarded the first train to Inaba that they could find, with Fuuka in tow. Akihiko and Shinjiro, however, were not inclined to wait on their hands until someone else was thrown into the television. So Teddie made glasses for the three boys (hipster, reading, and aviator for Shinji, Aki, and Ken respectively) – and something that looked a bit like diving goggles for Koromaru – and the six of them went into the realm of Shadows to reconnoiter. It wouldn't be the same as Tartarus, so it would be better to get the lay of the land, learn how things worked, before a more serious expedition could be led deeper in.

They arrived on the platform that had served as the Investigation Team's staging area, and it seemed at first as if everything was going according to plan. They would go to a place they already knew, make a few probing strikes on Shadows to gauge their strength, and then back out. Chie refused to return to the castle – it was too painful, not after Yukiko had died – and so she remained with Rise on the platform, surrounded by chalk outlines that were all too suggestive, as Teddie guided the members of SEES to the site of the only successful rescue.

As they were on their way, Mitsuru Kirijo was undertaking her own investigation, out in the human world. If Mitsuo Kubo was not the killer, then who was? She'd make inroads on her own, join the rest of her team when she was able. She'd also be ready to receive the rest of SEES as they finally arrived in town.

Their timetable was one week – after which, Rise would be shipped out of town for her protection. It was the longest extension that she'd been able to wrangle from her handlers, and it wasn't clear yet whether Mitsuru and the others would need her, especially not until they determined how the fog of the TV realm affected Fuuka's senses.

Unfortunately, Mitsuru made a miscalculation. She'd been able to meet with the girls privately back in Iwatodai after Shinjiro and Koromaru had sensed their resonances, but in a small town like Inaba, her presence was harder to disguise, even dolled up as a tourist. She didn't have the full weight of the Kirijo Group to throw around – she was really only just out of high school, the transition of authority was taking time – and it wasn't long before someone recognized her. Within thirty minutes, reporters were jamming microphones into her face.

Her methods for getting them out of the way might have caused her PR firm some minor strokes, but at least, she thought, it was an inconvenience easily dealt with.

During that broadcast, however, there was a man angrily attacking his boiled cabbage dinner who thought that she was an "uptight bitch," if maybe something of a looker, and began turning that thought over and over in his mind.

In the castle, though, things were perhaps even worse. Because while the group of Shadows that SEES had found in the first room were not that physically impressive, it was only once they'd engaged them in battle that they learned that the deity running the show had decided that evokers were "cheating."

Akihiko and the others had felt the buzzing in their heads when holding their evokers, as they always had when in Tartarus; but now, when they pulled the triggers, nothing happened at all.

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Minato sat across the table from Yukari; they were having trouble meeting each others' eyes.

"How about a coffee? Or, no, maybe tea..." She pulled at her sleeve.

"Coffee sounds... nice." He looked like a cornered animal. She retreated into the kitchen, and grabbed a pair of mugs from the cabinet...

...And then the world turned sideways, and the mugs were shattering in the sink, and the tears started coming.

"Are you okay?" Coming from the other room.

"F-Fine, just... I tripped, it's okay." She wiped at her face with a dishrag, and tried to keep her hands from shaking.

There was a long moment – and that was it, it had all been a late night dream that she would wake up from, a full-stop sheet-twisting dream that would send her hands to the sides of the toilet bowl – and then he spoke again.

"Where's Aigis?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

SEES were experienced fighters, and with more than just their Personas. They'd come in with well-maintained weapons. These three members, in fact, knew each other's moves better than pretty much anyone. Against weak Shadows like those that they were fighting, it's not like they were going to die. And they _did_ have Teddie with them, who was fully capable of using his own Persona.

What's more, Koromaru had no trouble summoning _his_ own Persona. The loyal Shiba Inu tore through Shadows on his own, without even the clicking sound of his own evoker collar. Koro-chan's Persona had never had to evolve – whatever issues the warrior dog might have had – perhaps those involving his original master, the priest at the shrine who'd died and left Koromaru alone until he'd found SEES – he had no need to work through them. Or maybe another opponent had once again underestimated the dog. Either way, he was able to take much of the weight off of the others.

But it's fair to say that the moment when their evokers failed was a bit of a blow to morale.

It was decided a tactical retreat was the smart decision, at least until they could figure out why their evokers were not working. Not even these three gung-ho males were interested in a suicide run through the fog-filled castle, particularly for no reason. Keeping a tight four-point configuration, they eased their way back to the castle's entrance.

Which was now sealed shut. And the door didn't budge for anything, be it axe-blade or bufudyne.

The castle, apparently, had new owners. Three of them, in fact.

Their initial exploration was only supposed to take thirty minutes at most. By the one-hour mark, Chie and Rise began to despair. Particularly as Teddie was their only way out of the TV realm.

It was at the three hour mark when Rise sensed that someone new had been thrown into the television.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

It was some time later, while walking along the edge of that lake, that Aigis and Teddie came upon something peculiar.

The first warning sign was that it did not appear natural. It was rectangular, with the kind of edges that suggested a manmade creation. Such things no longer existed in Teddie's realm – no longer were there things like the Magatsu liquor store, or the sprawling endless bathhouse. This suggested "foreign" in a way that even Aigis's own arrival had not, and put them both on edge.

The second warning sign was that they could not sense it with anything but their eyes. None of Aigis's advanced technological sensitory equipment, neither Teddie's special nose nor his Persona's abilities – it was as if the rectangle was a blank space in the world, a displacement of air molecules.

Teddie allowed that he did not know every square inch of his world in all its grandiose size, and so it was possible that the object was not a threat. But they both approached on their guard, both concerned at the possible return of Shadows – the dangerous Shadows, the Children of Maya.

What they found, as they grew closer, was a lemonade stand.

Slapped together out of uneven planks, with a handscrawled sign above, it was every bit the archetypal image of such a child-run establishment, right down to the single glass pitcher resting on its counter. Teddie and Aigis both edged closer, perplexed, as the stand's owner waved them closer. It was, they soon realized, designed unusually in one respect; it was _adult-sized_, as it was a fully-grown man who was sitting on a small stool behind the counter, and in a tailored suit. He smiled, kept waving them closer.

"Hi there!" The blond-haired man at the lemonade stand put his elbows on the counter and looked up at them. "Can I get you something?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It had been Ikutski all over again. Mitsuru rolled over. The wind had been knocked out of her, but she was largely unhurt. She had thought working with the police would get things done faster, but she hadn't anticipated that the culprit might _be_ in the police. In a fight, Mitsuru could have taken him. But all it had taken was one good shove and she was inside the television.

Taking stock of her surroundings, her heart sunk. It was a tangled morass of boardrooms and laboratories – it was, in fact, some perverted version of her grandfather's old private labs. A place that she knew very well, and wished that she didn't.

And she was not alone.

A young girl, only a few years old, red-haired and in a white dress, fixed her with a desperate look. "Daddy?"

Mitsuru made it up to her knees. "Are you lost?" She wheezed the words out as equilibrium restored. "Don't be scared. I'll get you home."

The girl just cocked her head. "Daddy? I can't do things without you." She crept closer. Mitsuru was having a hard time seeing through the fog, but when she got a glimpse of the girl's eyes, they were a bright yellow.

Oh. Oh, dear.

"Daddy, I know I said I was strong, but now that you're gone, I just keep leaning on people." The girl didn't seem so scared anymore. More like amused. "Hamuko and Yukari, they're the strong ones. Please, Daddy, can't you come back, so you can do my thinking for me? It's so haaaard..."

"Nn." Mitsuru edged herself up by gripping a nearby chair... a chair with stirrups. Her grandfather's examination table. Oh, please, no.

"Daaaddy..." The girl spun in place on one foot. "I didn't even learn how to _eat a hamburger_ until a couple of years ago. How am I going to run a whole company without you? I can't do _anything_." She grinned through the fog. "I couldn't save Daddy. I couldn't save Hamuko. I can't even save myself from an idiot detective serial killer. And now I'm going to die here."

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Yukari held her coffee mug and stared at Minato, and tried to cope.

He held his, and tried not to look at her. Finally, he spoke, softly. "I can't summon my Persona, anymore."

She snorted, and the fact that she was able to do so closed the gap, just a little. "Of course, you can't. There's no Dark Hour anymore." Because of you.

"No... I meant..." He turned the mug so that the handle faced the other way. "It's... gone. All of them are gone."

And he was so much like a lost little boy in that moment, so unlike the Minato who had calmly taken her in his arms on the beach, that she feared there would be no hope for them at all.

As if he'd heard her speak, he clutched at his face. "I'm sorry... for me, it's only been two years... time dilation... two years and forever."

"I still don't understand it..." She whispered. "We..." We buried you. More than that, we _cremated_ you, she thought to herself, and your ashes were scattered off the Moonlight Bridge. We were all there. I'd almost had to fight Akihiko, when he'd wanted to bury you next to Shinjiro and his damned sister.

He offered a weak smile.

She wanted to take him to bed. She wanted to throw him out the window. She wanted to curl up in _his_ lap, and cry herself to sleep.

"I know I have to see everyone." He sighed, and lilted a bit, and she realized how tired he was, even after having slept. She always used to tease him, the way he'd doze off in class all the time; now, she wondered if he'd ever _not_ be tired again. "Eventually. I just thought... you know..."

She felt them on her cheeks, before she realized they were coming all over again.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Akihiko stared at his Shadow, tried not to look back at the others.

"You're right. You're absolutely part of me. I've failed at almost everything I've ever done – failed to save Miki, failed to help Shinji, failed to see through Ikutski... and... and I failed with Hamuko most of all." His voice caught on her name. "I've covered up all of my insecurities for years in anger and determination and arrogance and everything else, and that wasn't enough to deal with them." He clenched his fists. "I am _more_ than that. I am more than _you_. But you are part of me. And I don't have time to let you get in my way."

His Shadow hesitated for a long moment, and then chuckled, offering a salute. And then he vanished. Since they'd first started hearing the Shadow's voice in the castle's corridors, the halls had licked with flames – the same flames that had burned down the orphanage. Now those flames were slowly dissipating, making it easier to go on. Akihiko could feel Caesar again, somewhere in the back of his mind, limbering up and getting ready to move on.

"W...Wow." Teddie swayed. "I've never seen anyone accept their Shadow like that, without fighting it."

"Sanada-san?" Ken placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you...?"

"Just..." Akihiko sunk to his knees. "Just give me a minute." And he threw up all over the carpet.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (What use is time, within the Amala Network?)-<strong>

Theodore and Margaret eased down the damp, dark corridors of the Amala Network slowly, one step at a time, and back to back.

They had no weapons. Margaret was also alarmed to find that she did not seem to be able to summon a Persona, despite having been chosen to appear as a guest in the Velvet Room. On one level this made sense – she should have been able to sense that part of herself by now, if she was going to be able to do anything with it.

The only thing that she and her brother were able to sense, however, was that they were not alone. Things were scurrying about in the dark.

In a sort of backwards and stupid way, this was what they had wanted – the Amala Network touched all places, all times – it would be the perfect way to find a new route to the Seal. Of course, even the most rudimentary logic would have told you that somehow being drawn unprepared and unarmed into Hell itself was probably not a "plan" so much as it was a death sentence.

There were many things whispering, all around them.

Margaret did not turn when she addressed her brother. "If we are to die here, I wish you to know – I am sorry for all the times that I have been unkind to you."

Theodore's voice sounded almost amused. "I would say the same, sister – except I'm not sure that I've ever _been_ unkind to you."

Something at the far end of the corridor roared.

"Perhaps we should run?" He didn't sound afraid – just posing the question.

"They'll sense weakness in us. We keep edging slowly – at the least, we can die courageously." Margaret joined hands with her brother and they took another few steps down the hall, to where one path branched off around a corner.

When they reached it, they saw something blue moving quickly in that direction. The two Velvet Siblings swung about so that Margaret was facing the new threat, with Theodore watching the rear guard, and that was apparently where they were going to make their stand. Margaret had never really thought about "dying, as it had seemed such a foreign notion to a denizen of the Velvet Room. Now, she was finding it difficult to think of anything else, a coming to terms with mortality that was all too rushed.

"Bless you, Master Philemon," she said, "for the lives that you have allowed us to lead."

The blue shape in the dark resolved finally into something humanoid. And then Margaret yelped.

It was _Elizabeth_, running towards them – one hand clutching a gaping, bleeding wound in her side... and the other keeping a Persona Compendium jammed into her armpit as she ran.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Taro Namatame hadn't been sure what to believe.

First, he'd thrown the Amagi girl into the television – and that had worked! He'd saved her! But then, when he'd done it to the big kid, the one who worked at the textiles place, that had definitely _not_ worked. He had been in the crowd that saw the body taken down from its place hanging above the shrine, and he'd wondered if it had somehow been _his_ fault. But his one success, in light of all the people who had died without his intervention (Oh, Mayumi...), prompted him to try one last time. He'd do what he could to help the idol, Risette, even if he was damning himself in the process. And when _that_ had worked...

When the news broke that the real killer, the high schooler, had been caught, he'd been able to breathe more easily at last. He wasn't sure what the future held, but at least Mayumi's ghost could rest. But what point was there left to life? Many times, he considered killing himself. But something always stopped him. Some lingering doubt, some strange belief that he had something left to do.

And then Mitsuru Kirijo had gone missing.

It had taken time to process, to work out the mathematics of what was real, what it all meant. What had he done, what had others done... Eventually, there seemed no way out of the conclusion that whatever it was that the television was doing, he'd made some kind of mistake along the way. Namatame wasn't a bad man, just a weak one. And for Mayumi's sake, at least, he'd try to make it right.

Upon plunging into the television to rescue the young heiress... he became a puppet of Ameno-Sagiri within twenty minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>-2020-<strong>

In Aoyama Cemetary, three high school students are nursing their wounds and looking at a priestess.

"So you are all safe. It is as I thought... You're demon tamers, as well." She raised her hand in greeting. "I am Amane Kuzuryu, maiden of the Shomonkai. It's nice to meet you..."

"R-right. I'm Atsuro Kihara, and this is Yuzu Tanikawa..." Atsuro stammered out introductions as the priestes and the third student studied each other's faces. This was a girl who moments earlier had used magic on unspeakable power to attack the giant demon that had threatened them. None of the teens had yet had time to process all that had happened that day, from the moment that they'd been given the strange COMPs – demon-summoning computers – up until now, after the sun had gone down and they'd twice had to battle for their lives.

Kuzuryu nodded to them each in turn. "The Wendigo seems to have released his minions into this cemetery. I have set a simple barrier around this place tonight. It's best if you stayed here."

The third student, the quiet one, cleared his throat. "Your name. Have we heard it before?"

She blinked, then nodded, slowly. "It is also the name of the nine-headed dragon deity... the Shomonkai have a a story about it. It is said that the dragon is one of God's great weapons, that will one day destroy the world."

"That's a lot of meaning to put into one name." Yuzu rubbed at her arms. She hadn't been dealing well with events thus far.

"It's only a story, Yuzu." Atsuro shook his head, but Amane, for her part, just raised her eyebrows. His head bowed. "Though... I guess after everything that's happened today..."

"God would only strike down the unjust." The priestess turned away from them. "This I believe strongly. Humanity deserves still to survive, if they've only the will for it." And she faded into the shadows.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

At the highest point of the castle, in what would be the lord's keep, the four members of SEES, battered and broken, finally burst through the door with Teddie at their heels. With Ken's Shadow dealt with, they'd at least had a full team of four with which to battle the generic Shadows in the castle, but they were weak, and sick, and Akihiko was swaying a bit. Teddie was drained of everything he had, trying to protect the boys and heal them when the damage got to be too significant, and he'd been forced to hang back of late, offering enemy analysis but not much else.

After a rescue, the procedure had always been to retreat, let everyone recover before going back into the television – but this time, they were not allowed to escape. They had to just keep on pushing forward. Nobody knew how long they'd been in the castle, and nobody knew if the girls back at the staging area were okay.

But they'd made it – there was only one Shadow left to defeat.

On the throne, Shinjiro's Shadow had one leg swung over the armrest and a lit cigarette bouncing on his lip.

"Tch," he said, "what took you so long?"

"Let's get this over with." Shinji jammed his axe into the floor and walked right up to his Shadow without it. "We all know I suck. Say whatever you want. I'm a murderer and an asshole, right? Go ahead."

The Shadow rolled its eyes. "You think you've got yourself all figured out, do you?"

"I'm a coward, I spent all that time living on the streets homeless because I couldn't own up to what I'd done. I took drugs and whatever else." Shinji pounded at his chest. "Go ahead, man, hit me with your best shot. I'm you and you're me, right?"

The Shadow sighed. "All right." He swung his leg over and sat up straight, tossed the cigarette away, and locked eyes with Shinjiro. "_I'm glad she's gone_."

"...What?" Shinjiro rocked back on his heels mid-step.

"Yeah! Hey, you wanted me to be honest, so I'm being honest." The Shadow stood up. "I'm glad she's gone, because it's easier to love a memory." He held out his arms. "I'm glad she's gone, because I don't have the balls to die in front of her. I'm glad she's gone, because if she was still alive, she would've figured out by now what a worthless scumbag I am. I'm glad she's gone, because my life is much less work without her. I'm glad she's gone, because _I know that I'm free to throw myself in front of a train whenever I want without thinking about her_."

"Shinji..." Akihiko's voice was raspy.

"Oh no," Teddie murmured.

The Shadow did a little jig right there, with his arms still out to encompass the world. "I'm glad she's gone! I count my lucky stars every day! And I count my lucky stars every god-damned day that the stupid _robot_ could talk me out of saving the life of my so-called girlfriend, because if I'd hung on to that key, I'd never have had the stones to go through with it!" He got right up in Shinji's face. "If I'd had that key, everyone I know would've seen me let her rot on The Seal, and count myself blessed!"

"No..." Ken pulled on Shinjiro's sleeve. "Don't-"

"That's not me." Shinjiro grabbed his Shadow. "That ain't true! _You don't speak for me_!"

The Shadow burst out into laughter, and Shinjiro blacked out. Before his body had even hit the floor, the Shadow had changed.

"It's going to attack!" Teddie put his paws up in front of his eyes, trembling. Koromaru growled.

Where the Shadow had stood, there was now something giant, and monstrous. A pale rider, holding its scythe high. But its steed was no horse – it was riding a massive, ambling human corpse – a corpse that Ken recognized, as he cried out.

"Mom!"

Akihiko shoved Ken out of the scythe's path and rolled, crying out as the blade cut across his back.

The pale rider stood atop a mountain of dead girls. Each one wore barrettes in a pattern that spelled out XXII.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (What use is time, within the Amala Network?)-<strong>

The third Velvet Sibling fell against her older sister. Her mouth opened and closed, but she was having trouble speaking.

"Elizabeth!" Margaret wrapped her arm around the younger woman's waist. "What..."

"No time." Theodore elbowed his sister in the back. "They are coming. Now."

Margaret grabbed hold of Elizabeth's book. It was, of course, Her Boy's compendium. And a fine collection of Personas that was. Some would not be accessible to them – Orpheus, Thanatos, Messiah, these were too linked to their true owner. But it was power enough to deal with whatever was coming.

"...Can fight..." Elizabeth staggered back to her feet. "Just... let me..."

There wasn't much time for argument. Margaret glanced at Theo, and winced once as she ripped the binding on the compendium. She handed a third of the pages to her brother, and a third to her sister. What she'd just done was unthinkable, but she had done a lot of unthinkable things already in the time since Igor had asked her to sit before him. There was no point in thinking about it now.

The first demons emerged from the darkness. She knew their faces.

Nebiros, and Belial. The Baron in Black, and The Count in Red. It would have been too much, she supposed, for it to just be a swarm of Pixies.

Belial pointed his trident at the three siblings, and licked what would be his lips. "I wonder... do you also tassste of velvet?"

Elizabeth was weak, but her eyes seemed clear. Each of the Siblings drew a couple of cards from their respective sheaf of pages.

And then they each heard a voice in their minds, one that even then had a vague sense of bemusement. "There are two enemies."

"Master Igor!" Theodore called on a Persona, threw a wall of flame between the demons and the siblings. It didn't seem to bother the demons much at all.

"Fire is ineffective against these enemies." Igor sounded a bit like he was reading off of a cue card. "I'd suggest... ice attacks, or perhaps 'hama' skills."

Theo cast Margaret a "What the _Hell_?" look, but Margaret was too busy flipping through her collection of pages to pay it much notice.

She was with her family. Her _whole_ family. Perhaps they had a chance of surviving, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Yukari frowned, scanning the small crowd clustered around Yasoinaba Station one more time. "I don't know where they are. Mitsuru at least should be here..."

While Aigis scanned the crowds curiously, Fuuka was trying her cellphone. "I can't get a signal on any of them."

"Something's wrong..." Yukari pulled at her hair. This was too strange. And all three girls had the same fear deep down – that they'd lose another of their number, still so soon after Hamuko. She didn't think anyone could bear it.

Suddenly, Aigis took off at a swift stride. "Huh? Aigis?" But the android did not answer to Fuuka's hail, and she and Yukari were forced to follow her into the unfamiliar town.

"Aigis, what's wrong? What are you..." But around the second corner, Aigis had stopped, and she was staring at a bush.

"What's gotten into you?" Yukari approached her. "Aigis, we can't afford to get separated, not until we-" And then she saw what Aigis was actually looking at: hidden in the bush was an animal. "Huh?" She crouched down, but the fox (for that's what it was) did not remove his gaze from the android. Then, he let out a series of yipping noises.

Fuuka looked at Aigis. "Can you understand him? Like with Koro-chan?"

Aigis turned, as though noticing the girls for the first time. "She was calling me from the station. The others are in trouble. We have to hurry."

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

"Come to bed." Yukari took his hand.

"Are you sure?" Minato placed his other hand over hers. "I don't want to... I know this is hard."

"It's okay." She wasn't sure _how_ exactly, and she could hardly believe she was suggesting it, but... well, he was at least eighteen, give or take a hundred years, and when her eyes were closed, maybe she could just... Oh God, this was too weird. Her other hand found his face. "It will be okay now. I don't know how, but... It will." Because maybe if she could convince _him_, she could convince herself. He'd always been the strong one. If he could believe it, he'd carry her the rest of the way.

She lightly pulled him to his feet, and his arms wrapped around her, and that much at least felt right – surely, the rest could be figured out when the sun had come up.

And then there was a thump upstairs, a loud bang, and the arrhythmic stomps of a familiar duck walk.

Aigis had come home. They released each other slowly, clasped hands, and turned to the stairwell doorway to greet her.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

The fox was able to get them inside a television – a series of misadventures that in other circumstances would have been funny and interesting. When they reached the the realm that Izanami had carved out for her experiment, however, all they found were two frightened girls, weak from hunger and terrified of anything that moved. They _must_ have been a truly pitiable sight, because just this once the fox provided some healing herbs for them at, well, only minimal cost.

When one of them was capable of speaking, it became clear that when the rain had stopped, not long before the girls had arrived in town, Mitsuru had been killed by whatever was lurking within her personal dungeon.

Yukari advocated going after the boys – Fuuka could stay with the others, the fox could take them back out of the television – but Aigis had another thought. She paced around the perimeter of the staging area, repeating the words "Please show yourselves" in a dispassionate tone. It was, in fact, a strange sort of parody of the Persona Game. Upon her completed lap, apparently her voice had been heard; a blue door appeared in her final corner, and she opened it to step into the Velvet Room.

The limousine carrying Igor and Margaret had changed since the last time that Souji Seta had stepped inside. It was not moving, and everything was inclined slightly to the right, as if it had been run off of the road. The driver of the limousine, Margaret muttered under her breath, was also missing. Igor informed the android, one of his favorite guests, that there was little that he could do for her. That if there was still hope for this world, she and her friends would be forced to find it elsewhere. It was the second day of the seven that Mitsuru had given SEES to resolve the situation in Inaba; Igor implied that the deadline existed far beyond Rise Kujikawa's presence in town, and that the world itself as humanity knew it may only have five days left.

When Aigis exited the Velvet Room, she was still trying to process what she had been told. Things were bleaker than they had been since Ryoji had revealed his true self. And in that battle-ready situation, she might be forgiven for what happened next – what, really, almost happened under different circumstances in another world.

When she stepped once again onto the stage that had served as the center of the Investigation Team's forays into the Shadow realm, she detected a Shadow amongst the team, and immediately fired upon it. In this case, the weakened Teddie never stood a chance.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (What use is time, within the Amala Network?)-<strong>

As Belial and Nebiros fell, so did Elizabeth.

Margaret clutched at her sister, eased her down into the muck that ran through the floor sluices so that she wouldn't injure herself further. "I have you, sister."

"I didn't think... that you would come for me." Elizabeth winced. The whole front of her dress was one large red stain. In the mess, Margaret could not tell what was actually the wound and what wasn't. "I... thought that you hated me... for my desertion of duty..."

"I met a Boy as you did, Elizabeth. I understand now." Margaret wiped at her eyes. "You did as I now would do. I'm sorry. I have been a poor sister to you both... and you saved us... both of us... carrying your compendium..."

Elizabeth offered a small smile before passing out. Margaret heard a familiar voice in her head.

_Thou art I... And I am thou..._

_Thou hast established a new bond..._

_It takes you forward towards the time of the healing..._

_Thou shalt be blessed when creating Personas of the Fountain arcana..._

A sign, at least, that Elizabeth was still alive and with them – if they could get her someplace to be healed, and quickly.

"Sister..." Theodore was not looking at his wounded twin. He was instead gazing down the hall, where there was movement. "We need to escape."

Margaret, cradling Elizabeth in her arms, worked her way back to her feet. "What is it?" Theo looked afraid.

The image down the corridor again resolved into a blue-clad figure, again feminine and humanoid. Margaret stumbled backwards. This was not good. There were few figures who could truly scare one of the Velvet Siblings when they were at their full strength, but this was one of them. This, in fact, was one who would even set their Master ill at ease.

"What do we do?" Theo was looking at her.

"We cannot run." She hefted her sister's weight. "Not carrying Elizabeth. And if we did, we'd be dead in seconds."

"Uncle Red?" The little girl in blue had reached the still-warm corpses of the demons that the trio _had_ been able to kill, and stopped. "Uncle Black?" The girl didn't look distraught or angry, so much as confused. "I'm all alone again?" She looked at Margaret and Theodore. "That means _you'll_ have to play with me."

Theodore held up his pages from the compendium. "If I fight, do you think you can escape with her?"

Margaret shook her head. "Don't be stupid. We just found her. We can't separate again. We'll stand or die together."

The little girl didn't seem to notice anything they said. "Will you play with me?" She stepped over the corpses of her "uncles" and drew nearer. "Won't you do just one thing for me? Please?" She was smiling. "Pretty please?"

"For the record," Theo offered, "I'm officially done with the world outside. I'd like to go home now."

Alice pointed at them. "Won't you please die for me?"

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Shinjiro Aragaki had finally been able to accept the darkest part of himself, and once again he could summon upon Brutus. His Persona looked a great deal like Akihiko's; it was sleek black stone where Akihiko's was white marble, and it was the small figure in its core, and its face, that were purest white. That they were complements, as they had been before, was unsurprising, but it was only now that Shinji was able to see his Persona as also derivative of the pale rider, of the incarnation of death itself. Appropriate enough for him on his own, doubly more so after having been touched by Hamuko Arisato.

It had not been without cost. Aki had a bleeding wound in his abdomen to go with his busted ribs, and Ken had a broken arm. But they'd made it. The trek out of the castle was child's play in comparison, and Teddie had explained that there was a source of healing outside that would be able to take care of their injuries, if they could only make it back.

But when they'd returned to the girls at long last – finding Fuuka and Yukari had joined them – they had not been able to rest before reeling in shock as Aigis acted on instinct, killing Teddie before they could warn her off. And now they learned that Mitsuru, too, had also not made it.

It was as if it had all been for nothing. That the entire story, everything, had been for nothing. A waste.

They did not know that other things were happening elsewhere.

It started, apropos enough, with Maya Amano. Maya was a _real_ journalist; she was not the sort to go muck-raking, drag people's families into sensational news stories about serial killers. But when Mitsuru Kirijo was counted amongst the dead, that was enough to get her nose for news moving. If anything about Inaba had smelled before, _now_ it stunk to high heaven. Kirijo had been tied to the situation in Iwatodai, a story that had the unmistakable aroma of _Persona_ about it.

Maya called Kei Nanjou. Kei Nanjou made more calls.

With four days left to go, half the known Persona-users in Japan were on their way to Inaba.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

"Guys, let me start by saying – I love the locks. Truly." The blond-haired man looked at the two not-quite-humans standing on the other side of his lemonade stand. "Blondes have more fun, am I right? Especially you." He pointed to Teddie. "I swear, if I was the kid-having type, you could almost pass for... ah, but you're not interested in my flights of fantasy."

"Identify yourself." Aigis took a step forward, as if to interpose herself between the man and Teddie.

"Oh, you two are the cutest. Did we make a love match? How bitterly, boringly ironic." He rolled his eyes. "Sit. Sit sit sit sit sit. Don't be rude." He waved to the two small stools sitting in front of the lemonade stand.

Aigis did not trust the man, but she had also not trusted Teddie, and she'd nearly killed someone who now, she wished to get to know better. So hesitantly, casting a glance at the nervous Shadow, she sat. He slowly sat next to her, and the man nodded.

"Good, good." He smiled. "Can I offer you something to drink? No? Hm." He poured himself a glass, but then he looked at it and pursed his lips. "Actually, I don't want to drink this either." He put the glass aside. "I'm sorry to disrupt your picnic. You both looked like you were enjoying yourselves."

Aigis frowned. "You still have not told us your name."

"I know, I know, it's irritating, but it's a sort of... _shtick_ that I have." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Believe it or not, humans like it when I'm coy. It conforms to this _image_ they have of me and what I do." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Not that any of us here are really 'humans,' though, right?" He winked.

Aigis was thinking of Ryoji. Teddie was thinking of Izanami. Neither of them were exactly put at ease.

"Ah, relax, relax. There's no harm in being honest, is there? Isn't 'accepting yourself' a big part of what you kids are all about? If that's true, then why are they always making you more human? I mean, they treat the 'dog' as a damned human. So to speak, that is. Maybe you should try being truer to yourselves, you know?"

Aigis crossed her arms. "How do you know so much about us?"

"For the same reason that I can appear here?" He gestured out at the lake. "Truly beautiful. Your world is a wonderful place, Teddie, wonderful." His lips twitched. "Not that it's really _your_ world, of course. You didn't make it."

Teddie frowned. "W-Well... it's _my_ home. You didn't make it either."

"No..." he admitted, "But it was my idea. I'm full of ideas like this."

Aigis rested one hand on the table, palm down. Her fingers were pointed at the man, which if he truly knew her could be taken as a threat _or_ an entreaty. "You have talked in a circuitous way, and your tone has been ambiguous. I am asking you to state your intentions plainly, as I suspect they are hostile."

The blond-haired man sighed. "Look. You both came here because you wanted something. Aigis, you want to see him again, yes? You did what you thought was the 'right thing' before and you feel all good about it, but some part of you wanted to see him again. Am I right?" She said nothing. "And Teddie. You wanted to know once and for all if it was true, what you think about your true origin. You know, really, but you wanted confirmation. Right, again?" Teddie shrunk from his gaze.

"You are not trustworthy." Aigis's eyes narrowed.

"What, my nose isn't long enough for you to take seriously? Seriously, that old dancing block of wood talks in thirty-yen riddles and all you do is follow his lead. Look, I'm here as a gesture of good will, believe it or not. I look for the ones who have the _spark_. I'd say you two have it. And my company is always offering employment opportunities to folks like you."

"Ai-chan..." Teddie was shaking his head. "I don't think this is a good person."

"I agree." Aigis primed her weapons. "Vacate these premises immediately."

"Oh, like suddenly you care about intruding, as if you didn't do the same thing a few months ago."

Aigis hesitated, but only for a second. "Hours."

"Mm. Yeah, you'd think so. Sorry! Guess I forgot to mention, people in my vicinity get a little slippery sometimes when it comes to time. Ask your _old_ boyfriend. Or his grandfather." He drummed his fingers on the counter. "Look, this isn't going how I'd hoped, but I can't say that I'm surprised. It was sort of a last minute idea, really. I just have a fondness for you two, thought maybe I'd offer you the chance to live when the rest of humanity dies out." He sighed. "You can't blame me for trying, really, but it's not a huge loss on my part. I've already got what I needed."

"Whatever threat you pose to mankind, you will be stopped." Aigis fired, but the bullets passed through the blond-haired man without so much as a ripple.

"Don't. Really. The more boring you are, the less inclined I am to be charitable." The blond-haired man's expression darkened and pointed at her. "Look, I _like_ humanity. But I'm an ends-justify-the-means type of guy. And you can't 'stop' me from doing _anything_." He ticked off on his fingers. Since you two have been having your picnic inside the TV, I've killed at least seven Persona users, okay? Take solace in the fact that I haven't enjoyed any of it so far." He paused. "Well, none of the _killings_. The _other_ thing, I enjoyed that a little bit."

"Ai-chan..." Teddie pulled at her sleeve. "We've got to warn the others!"

A ring of flames burst from the ground around them and the lemonade stand.

"**You'll leave when I'm done talking to you**." The blond-haired man's voice echoed across the entire realm, and it seemed as if the world shook at his every word.

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Inaba is a small town in rural Japan. If anything, it is known for the small but well-run Amagi Inn; otherwise, it is not an especially notable town. Its signature dish is steak.

Nobody ever cared much for Inaba – nobody ever noticed it much at all. Its level of tourism was off and on, and nothing exciting had ever happened there. Until the Hanged Man murders. Once the reporters had caught wind of the grisly story, all of Japan had been flooded with the most remote details of Inaba's day to day life, as well as how it had been disrupted by these horrific killings.

That the first killing had been a celebrity in the middle of a scandal fueled much of the attention, and it also proved to be eerily prescient – soon enough after, the reports included a missing idol singer, one who was later found with a dead body. And after that, the beautiful young heir to a major corporation was found murdered in town, as well. If anything, the average Japanese citizen viewed the Hanged Man murders as a string of celebrity killings – it made for a far sexier story than a mix-matched group of victims that included a number of insignificant high school students.

Suffice to say, Inaba after the death of Kirijo was not only a media bedlam, but a population explosion. People from throughout Japan were flocking to the town to gawk. There were whole gypsy camps set up on the banks of the Samegawa river, filled with obsessive fans of "true crime" and celebrity-spotters. Smaller crimes became more frequent throughout town, and the harried police force, already on the verge of being considered a joke by the rest of the nation's peacekeepers, were constantly distracted and harried by trespassers, minor assault, stalking, vandalism, juvenile delinquency, drug use, and other cases that were getting in the way of the country's most-watched murder investigation.

It seemed as though some celebrities were looking to be seen in Inaba as some kind of badge of courage – token charity efforts were going in all kinds of directions, and soon it seemed like you couldn't take two steps without tripping over a well-known name. TV host Hidehiko Uesugi, supermodel Eriko Kirishima, even young magnate Kei Nanjou (who was rumored to be buying up Kirijo stock by the crateful).

Other independent services kept offering aid, as well. Therapists like Maki Sonomura, people-finders like Kaoru Saga and Ulala Serizawa, even detectives like Katsuya Suou who had accrued enough vacation time to apparently cruise other town's crime investigations. Some even said that the elderly head of the Shirogane Detective Agency had been seen in town, asking people questions in a soft voice.

Detective Ryotaro Dojima could barely keep up with the goings-on in town anymore, and he was pushed to his breaking point. He barely went home anymore – which was just as well, because arresting his nephew had shocked his daughter into something just shy of a catatonic state.

Then, one day, his partner vanished.

Adachi was hemmed in all sides. So many Persona users in town making their own investigations, it was impossible for him not to learn of some of them. And while the game had been fun, better than he'd expected, things were looking more and more bleak for him. There was no way for him to flee town without being noticed.

So he fled into the television.

Maki was the first one to sense that it was the television being used, but they did not have a method for entry. Nanjou got to work theorizing, and the others explored other ideas as they worked. They'd probably have found a way in, in time. But time was running out.

The second that Adachi set foot in the realm in the television, Fuuka and Rise were both able to detect them, and between them triangulate his position. Chie, Akihiko, Shinjiro, Ken, Aigis, and Koromaru were in pursuit immediately; Yukari stayed behind to guard the two girls who were keeping tabs on his position, unable to help without glasses. Teddie had made the glasses, and he was now... gone. Aigis, at least, could compensate somewhat with her android lenses. And she'd already faced _her_ Shadow.

They split into two teams of three, and in that way were able to flank Adachi within the depths of Magatsu Inaba. Against all of them, even in their state, he didn't have a chance. Not when he knew there was little point in escaping back to the real world, where there was an armada of Persona users waiting for him to come out. He'd expected teenagers. He didn't expect what he got.

While they were beating the tar out of him, though, on the outside a man with an earring was walking down the commercial district of Inaba with Tamaki Uchida by his side, considering what little he knew of the Hanged Man killings, and conferring with the seasoned detective (and devil summoner) on what might _really_ have set the whole thing off.

It was raining again, of course, and would be raining for just a couple more days.

It all happened close to the same moment. Adachi hit the ground hard – he might never walk again. But he'd given a good enough fight that the others were weakened, tired. At that moment, the God of Fog rose up over the nearby ridge, dangling its puppet Namatame, and ready to attack. And Tamaki and her companion came upon a woman at the nearby gas station who looked very suspicious, and who seemed to recognize them.

These heroes all, they had fought the impossible fights before. They had beaten back gods and defeated the darknesses that lay within their own hearts. It would be fair to place your faith in them, to believe that even this, they could overcome. That even without Souji Seta, whose defiant stand inspired the assistance of the god Izanagi, they could defeat these foes and save their world. It would be fair to believe that even though it was not their fight, even though they had suffered losses and did not have full information, that they could win as they had won countless times before.

It would be fair to believe that.

But still they failed.

This was a universe that, from the beginning, had been _designed_ to fail.

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time slippage in the TV realm)-<strong>

Aigis and Teddie were trapped within the ring of fire with their unknown assailant.

"**Now,**" he said, in a voice that echoed not just in their ears but somewhere deep within their bodies,"**Shut up** until I... eh? There, unhurt by the towering columns of fire, was a single fly, buzzing about the blond-hared man in a smooth arc. "Hm. Hold on, I need to take this." The fly came in close and... _hovered_ next to the man's ear. "Mmhm. Uh-huh. I see. Well, that's a shame about those three – I liked them – but glad to know the plan worked." The fly zipped back behind the man and seemed to vanish.

Teddie coughed and swayed a bit.

"Well, that was good news for me and bad news for you. Looks like your last, best hope of turning the bus back around just took the bait. I've been watching you kids pull miracles out enough times, I won't be arrogant to say that this is a lock, but..." He stood, dusting off his pant legs. "I have a few more things left to say, and then I'll leave you to it, okay? Like I said before, I don't want to hurt you."

Teddie pressed against Aigis's arm. "Ai-chan... I... I don't feel beary good at all, all of a sudden..."

"Look, let me be clear." The blond-haired man leaned in. "I have been planning this for centuries. Everything that you've done, every victory, was orchestrated to make this possible. _Okay_? None of you would exist in the first place if it weren't for me. That's not arrogance, that's _statement of fact_. My advice to you is to join your families and enjoy the time you have left, because if I was a human, that's what _I'd_ do." He sighed. "None of this is getting through to you."

Aigis couldn't move. Something was preventing her, had been since the flames had risen with the blond-haired man's little tantrum.

"That said... if you all want to struggle, throw yourselves against a wall, that's fine with me. I won't be offended. I'm a _big_ believer in survival of the fittest, you know?" He chuckled. "All right, I'm almost done, hold on..." He turned. "Hey, come out here for a second."

Teddie dropped to his knees. "What's..." He looked pale, he was sweating... Aigis tried to reach out to him, but she still couldn't move.

A man walked right through the towers of fire as if they were not here. He had dark hair, a black suit, and a red scarf over his shoulders. The blond-haired man looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"Take that off. You look ridiculous – that outfit's not going to do you any good here."

The man in black shrugged. "I like this suit. I had it tailor-made." He blurred for a second, and then he was dressed in white, as the blond-haired man was. Only this was something like a school uniform, and the man's face was now chalk-white as well, with grinning red lips.

"I take it back. That looks even stupider." The blond-haired man turned back to his captives as his "partner" reverted back. "Wasn't it nicer when we could have just sat at the counter and drank lemonade? That would have been charming! Anyway, you don't know this fellow, but he knows _you_." The man in black was grinning. "Personally, I don't care for this guy, or his methods – so _over the top_! - but he's been pretty useful to me. I wanted to give you a chance to meet."

The man in black came over, looked Aigis up and down. "Truly remarkable. I never thought they'd get this far along so quickly."

Teddie was down on his hands and knees, shaking. "Leave... her... alone..."

"Don't talk back to your father." The man in black kicked Teddie in the stomach, and he rolled over, just shy of hitting the flames. Aigis tried to fight whatever was holding her in place, but it was as if she couldn't send impulses down to her joints. She couldn't even actively struggle. "I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

The blond-haired man clucked his tongue. "I despise abusive father figures. Don't you? But then, that's what this is all about."

* * *

><p><strong>-XXXX (Time is eternal for the Seal)-<strong>

Theodore placed his hands on Hamuko Arisato's cheeks. "Do not be afraid. I have discovered a way."

Theodore only discovered the way when the limousine "crashed" – that is, when it was clear that this world was doomed. In a world where the fog of untruths was enshrouding the world, the Seal was weakening – more people were wishing for what they should not, and the despair was calling Erebus closer to Nyx. Could Hamuko hold it in check? Perhaps, perhaps not. But Izanami could not be stopped without Souji Seta – mankind was losing itself in that fog, and there was little point left in her sacrifice.

_It's all been for nothing? _She looked at Theodore with despair of her own. _My sacrifice didn't save them?_

Theodore shook his head. "If you had known that it would give the world two years it would not have had, would you have turned it down?" Which was a question which answered itself. "But no, it has not been for nothing." Because the deck had somehow been stacked. "Can you feel the presence on the other side of my heart, Hamuko Arisato?"

_You have a twin sister, Theodore? Oh, she's so beautiful..._

"You can feel that she, as well, is standing before the Seal. I need you to pour all of your strength through me, and into her, and through her, into him. As I dissipate this Seal, _his_ Seal will grow stronger – you will be saving him, freeing him, as you yourself shall be freed. Can you feel him?"

_Oh, yes, I can!_

"Good... I know you can. He is your other self, Hamuko... you are he, and he is you... we're going to save both of you together, now..."

_But, but Theo... what use is my freedom, in such a world? There's truly nothing left?_

He offered her a reassuring smile. "One step at a time."

And they both closed their eyes, and all the pain and the determination and the hope and every other part of her seemed to pool somewhere above her heart, like a knot of tension one might find in their back, and she pushed it up, up, up into her face, where Theodore's warm hands seemed to absorb it.

"It's working, Hamuko. It's working. You can do this."

She wondered what the other Seal was like. Theo said it was a boy? A brother for her, then. She'd always wanted a brother. She supposed that's why she'd been so quick to collect all of those boys, those strong and wonderful boys of hers, Junpei, Ken, Akihiko... and, well...

_Is there a Shinjiro over there, Theo? Is he okay?_

"Focus, Hamuko... we're almost there..." He tightened his hands on her face. "Your friends don't know this, but all of their fighting, all of their sacrifices, have been to give you this chance."

_I think... I think this is it... I feel the Seal giving way..._

And then Theo was letting go of her... and then she was falling... falling... falling...

_Live a good life, other me... make sure all of this was worth it..._

And then a hand caught hold of hers, a boy's hand, small, slender even, but strong. She could feel her fall slowing down... but...

"I won't let you go, Hamuko-senpai! I promise!"

_Ken_?_ Is that...you sound so..._

"Hang on!"

* * *

><p><strong>-2021-<strong>

Aigis staggered across the floor of her bedroom as all systems returned to normal. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten home. Apparently the two men had been done with them...?

She looked at Teddie's limp form in her arms. He barely breathing. "Teddie-kun?" He wheezed slightly. "I will save you. I promise you. I will _not_ fail you, too."

He mumbled something. "Sensei," that had to be it.

She nearly tripped over his discarded bear suit. Apparently, it had been tossed back into the human world after them. What could she do?

After a moment of thought that passed at the speed of light from one processor to the next, she knew. She didn't like it, but she knew how to save him.

There was talking emanating from downstairs. She kicked her bedroom door open, moved awkwardly down the stairs, clutching Teddie's body to her bosom like a child's as she maneuvered.

"Aigis!" Yukari reached out with one hand.

"...Teddie!" Minato's jaw dropped.

If you had asked her, before the crisis; whether seeing his face again, from where he stood by Yukari, would cause her a moment's pause, would cause all other thoughts to cease; if you had asked her that before, she would have said obviously yes. But she held the dying Teddie tightly and looked at the other boy she'd sworn once to protect, and just said: "I need your help."

* * *

><p><strong>-2011 (Timeline B-AB)-<strong>

Philemon stood and watched the world's devastation.

There were infinite worlds – every minor deviation caused its own branch in time. And every subset of infinity was of course infinity. Which meant that every slightest fraction of a moment, an infinite number of worlds were dying, were failed projects.

Philemon thought briefly of the mortal Tatsuya Suou.

Human minds had not the scope to conceive; but being of _all_ human minds, Philemon could. There were other worlds adrift in the sea of time where things had been different. But _this_ world, this singular branch, was so intrinsically linked with one another – the one that Philemon himself had helped to create, the one that he thought of as his own – that he was nonetheless mournful of its loss.

And yet, its use was now clear. Hamuko Arisato would have a better world, a better home, to return to. If only the next few human weeks were not the end for that world, as well...

A figure in black appeared next to Philemon.

"Gotcha again, didn't I?"

"You were defeated by them before."

Nyarlathotep laughed. "Lose a battle, win an argument – I figure I still come out on top."

Philemon turned to look at him. "The humanity of our world, they proved you wrong in time."

Nyarlathotep, still in the skinsuit of Akinari Kashihara, raised an eyebrow and made a gesture with his arms, like stabbing with a spear. "At best, we had a draw." He shrugged. "You know, they say they hate me, but it's that old story they have about the scorpion. They know it's my nature. You, though... you, they hate. Couldn't even explain it to The Seal, could you? Not to his face. Afraid of getting another little punch to the face? You're so _delicate_."

"The lightbringer suggested the same." Philemon smiled. "But perhaps I am as he is. Willing to play the villain, to get what I truly desire."

Nyarlathotep scowled. "There will be nothing left of them when we are done."

Philemon tilted his head slightly. "Are you weary of losing, then, that you choose suicide? For without them, you are nothing."

"Infinite worlds, infinite chances for me to exist." Nyarlathotep started to fade away. "I am allowed to be petty. I am in their image, after all."

Philemon turned back to the world of Hamuko Arisato, the world which no longer contained her. "You forget, then, that what you hate in me is also in them. And it will always be stronger." The countdown had begun. He had stayed to watch their valiant last gasps, his children, the heirs to _Persona_; stayed to watch them prove themselves worthy of his faith... prove themselves capable of the ordeal to come.

This offshoot world had been created to fail, but even then they had been the best of humanity. The odds were only the slimmest margin better in Minato Arisato's world... but given that, they would no doubt succeed.


	13. Author's Notes, 8

**Author's Notes, IV:**

Notes again already? Yes, dear reader, I know we've only had one chapter since the last set, but this collection of notes ran so long that I felt it best to post them on their own, before the next chapter. More importantly, though, the last chapter had a lot happen in a few pages, and I expected that there may be some reactions to the story, and felt getting my notes up quickly might clarify. Hopefully you'll find them useful. As always, you can always skip past them to the next chapter!

Thanks as always to those who read, and especially to those who review and comment!

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 8:<em>

-Ahaha. No, Maya likely didn't write the article – though Shunsuke almost certainly took the pictures. Apparently seeing an issue of _Coolest_ was not enough to jog his memory, which I'd say is fair.

-So... the alternate timeline. I offered my explanation for it in-story, but I suppose I'm going to have to comment on it nonetheless. I know that it comes across as being somehow negative towards the idea of Hamuko, but it's not. It's a story necessity. At the time of this writing, we don't know what _P4G_ will entail, and for all we know Margaret will mention a "girl" the way that she mentioned a "boy" in the original _P4_ – but for this story, I needed the two timelines to be different besides a single element. The entire story is about changes in time and small things becoming big things – Ms. Ounishi's classroom lecture early on was setting things like this up. The problem is this – as a "fan," you arguably want to create a world where Hamuko gets to join Minato, or vice versa. But to do that honestly, you're depriving a universe of their particular Arisato – for one thing, in this version of the story, the universe that she'd be theoretically leaving is one that isn't long for existing (for humans) anyway. Naming Naoto's mother "Yui" might have been over-the-top for this, but honestly... this is a universe-long con job, and as a story it doesn't reflect negatively on any of the likable characters. It wasn't for no reason.

-This alternate version of _Persona 4_, by the way, might be one of the most depressing things I've ever done. Sheesh!

-Challenge #1 to creating a universe "designed to fail" was to make it believable. Not only have we seen all of these people do the impossible before, they have to do so again before the end of this story! I tried to dig down and find logical reasons for all of the things that happen as things collapse, but I also moved through the tale on fast-forward as much as possible, so that there were as few details to contend with as possible. The more moving pieces, the more likely that you can find one that doesn't work (a rule that I clearly do NOT follow with the story as a whole, which sure does have a lot of moving pieces!)

-Challenge #2 was making it worth caring about. That meant showing at least some of the struggle, and also providing things that we hadn't seen before – what Brutus looks like, what Mitsuru's and Shinjiro's Shadows were like, Akihiko accepting his Shadow, the fox not being an asshole, etc. It's one of the reasons that I chose these specific sequences to interweave with the end of Hamuko's world – Minato's reunion with Yukari, the Velvet Siblings in action, and the Aigis/Teddie material were all, in the past, highly demanded stuff when it came to this story, so it was my hope that even if you didn't care for the bleak turn, you'd keep reading to see the stuff you'd been waiting for, and that the other stuff would pay off by the end and make it worth it.

-We don't get to see nearly enough of Aigis and Teddie enjoying each other's company here. I skipped past the discussion bits here to keep things moving – hopefully I can flash back to it later.

-FYI, if you were to ask me who was most fun to write for, but also the hardest to write? Teddie, by a mile.

-The relationship between the two Kirijo labs... the one on Yakushima and the one on Tatsumi Port Island... it's always been pretty vague, and I've tried to keep it vague in this story. Who was where, and at what time? Much like the chronology, it's all a bit contentious.

-Why did the Shadows of the boys take over the castle, rather than form a new area or areas? Because as Shadows of SEES members, they act with a degree of military precision that the Shadows of characters from _Persona 4_ could not have. They knew what their other selves would do first.

-To be fair, Mitsuru may have been able to survive if she'd had a pair of glasses. It's hard to say. I _do_ think that she'd reject her Shadow, but without the disorientation, she might have thought things through better.

-It's important to remember that for SEES, this is based on their development in Hamuko's route, which is significantly different than in Minato's – for instance, Hamuko helps Akihiko come to grips with the loss of his sister more than Minato does – and is also based on the version of The Answer seen earlier in the story, in which Shinjiro and Akihiko are able to hash things out (with a bit of violence). This also means that Mitsuru and Yukari were in a different place, as they _didn't_ go through what they did in the male route Answer. This is why I believe that Akihiko is able to accept his Shadow, here.

-Where has Elizabeth been? We'll get to that.

-I left what happened with Ken's Shadow up in the air on purpose. Did they fight it, or did he accept it? I leave it to you to decide.

-Namatame never does catch a break, does he?

-Yes, I'm still refusing to state definitively what happened within the Lockdown. I don't plan on telling you, either. We know Izuna survived, and so did Haru. At least one more character will be seen before the end. This isn't a _Devil Survivor_ story (or a _Catherine_ one, or a _Strange Journey_ or _Trinity Soul_ one) – we see what we need to in order to reflect on the main tale, which surrounds the casts of four _Persona_ stories (plus "If..." - which is "_Persona_ Zero" - and the fictional _Persona 5_ which I made up for this story). Most of the dialogue here is direct quoting, except for the bit about Amane's name, which of course is a reference to the earliest _Shin Megami Tensei_ games. The thematic reasoning behind its placement here is, I think, pretty clear.

-The stuff with Shinjiro's Shadow... if you don't know how he feels, here, then count yourself lucky – or don't, maybe, because it's part and parcel of loving someone completely.

-When Igor serves as mission control, he appears in the corner of the screen like Fuuka or Rise, but his nose reaches across your entire widescreen television.

-For people who read the original After the End stories, there are a lot of payoffs in this chapter. Finally seeing Aigis come through the door, for one, and seeing the three Velvet Siblings reunited. I hope it's been worth the wait.

-The Fountain Arcana is the counterpart to The Beggar, as mentioned in the notes of a previous chapter.

-In trying to figure out what would genuinely scare the Velvet Siblings, I had a pretty short list to work from – their power being so immense. But let's face it – _everyone_ is scared of Alice.

-And now we finally see one of our primary antagonists. MegaTen fans may rightly criticize my characterization of the blond-haired man here. Normally he's a bit more... laconic? Rarely is he excitable and chatty the way he is here. This was a deliberate choice on my part. What we _can_ all agree on is that the blond-haired man is usually working a multi-layered plan, usually more than a few steps ahead of the protagonist of whichever game you're playing. The same is happening here. In this case, portraying himself in this fashion is _part_ of the plan. As Philemon suggests at the story's end – this is a being willing to do or be whatever is needed in order to get what he wants. Why this characterization helps him, though, will wait until we get a better sense of what his plan _is_. He's certainly had many faces in the different games to date, as it is – in _Nocturne_ he's a boy _and_ an old man, and in _Strange Journey_ he's a girl!

-On whether it's fair that the blond-haired man is portrayed as an antagonist... well, I think people sometimes overestimate how "heroic" he is in MegaTen titles. He wants what he wants, and he'll use you to get there. The fact that YHVH comes off as a much nastier enemy, and the blond-haired man almost a hero in comparison, muddies the perception a bit. Just because the chaos routes are valid options doesn't mean they're in humanity's best interests. Like the man says – he believes in survival of the fittest, and he wants the cycle to end once and for all. The fact that he rather likes humanity doesn't mean that he's their protector.

-Yes, the fly is Beelzebub.

-I didn't bother to write everyone dying, because who wants to read it? Besides... as I wrote in the story, it'd be fair to think that they could still win this. But I tried to put them in as untenable a position as I possibly could. Without Teddie, and without Souji, the mechanism by which they could battle Izanami on her terms is pretty well destroyed, you know?

-And there's everyone's favorite jerk-face, Nyarlathotep. As long as humanity has a Shadow, he will be there – as he's said himself. I did worry that having him be one of the factors in the blond-haired man's plan would be too much... but this is a story that hinges on all of _Persona_ history, and especially with Tatsuya's memory already at risk in the story, it would be strange _not_ to see him. There are more factors in play here, as well, that we've yet to see. For everyone to be involved, you need a suitable set of antagonists.

-If Metis and Teddie are arguably brother and sister (with Nyarlathotep as their nasty Dad), would that make a Teddie/Aigis relationship inappropriate? Hmm.

-Finally, the pay-off that I'd planned back in the original version of "The Eagle and the Butterfly." Yes, this dying universe, and Theo's pushing the Seal's energies over to Minato's side, was always planned. You see now why I skipped relating it back then – the amount of explanation would have destroyed the story. You also see now why I blanched at the idea of this being viewed as a "fix fic" - this isn't a "fix" at all, as it destroyed an entire universe – that of the female route – to make possible. And now we also see that all of the struggling by the doomed Persona-users in this chapter was _not_ pointless – it allowed Theo to do what he's doing here, and makes any victory in the "main timeline" of this story possible. That Ken is able to grab Hamuko and bring her over is almost a bonus... but the story's not over, and Hamuko will get justice for her friends.

-If you're upset that Hamuko and Shinjiro can't be reunited this way, you should hang on. There _were_, after all, some plot twists in that other chapter, yes?

-The still-unanswered questions – like how Ken got there, and what happened in the Amala Network after Alice showed up – will be answered in due course.

-I know that I deserve to be drawn and quartered for that "I need your HALP" joke, but it was my way of acknowledging that this was all essentially a great punchline – that Aigis finally comes home to see Minato, and she's too busy trying to save Teddie's life to enjoy it. What exactly is happening to Teddie? Keep reading to find out.

-Nyarlathotep does sort of speak for the audience here, doesn't he? Philemon has made some strange choices over the course of the series.


End file.
